Venus Syndrome
by extasssy
Summary: Gregory House / Allison Cameron ship - When his new patient turns out to be his former employee, Dr. House starts a race against time to save her, while trying to outrun all the feelings he starts having.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: _I don__'__t own House M.D or any of the characters from it. I'm not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story. _

**Announcement**: _I'm looking for a House M.D. beta for 'Venus Syndrome', preferably someone who enjoys the story as much as I do and who's ready to spend some time beta__-__ing it._

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

It was a few minutes to 5AM and Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was just as it should be, quiet. Most of the upper floors were empty of staff except for a nurse here and there checking on patients. The ER, down on first floor, was probably the only place where there still was some activity this early in the morning. And still, on the fourth floor, the Diagnosis Department Conference Room was not as deserted as it should have been and what was even more unusual was its occupant.

"Rise and shine, boys and girls! We have a case," Dr. Gregory House exclaimed as the door opened behind him and he heard his team entering. There were groans and moans greeting him and he let out an evil chuckle. "What's the matter, kids, ain't you happy daddy's found us a new toy?"

"It's not even dawn," mumbled Dr. Remy Hadley matter-of-factly, dragging herself to the coffee machine, where of course there wasn't any coffee already made. She started making some.

"And your point is?" House questioned, the right eyebrow disappearing in his hair line.

"Nothing," Hadley better known as Thirteen yawned.

"That's better," House smirked turning to the board. "So, differential, people."

"Where's the file?" asked Dr. Eric Foreman looking all around the Conference Room.

"Don't have it, Big-bad-boss's gonna bring it later," House said still looking at the board. "Sooo, differential."

"What symptoms do we have?" asked Dr. Robert Chase.

"Dun 'know!" House replied.

"And were doing a differential on…" dragged Foreman.

"A blank board."

"There's nothing there," said Thirteen.

"Yeh… Perfect deduction, so, case closed!" House chuckled and started making his was to his office. "Get me a real case," he ordered. "Preferably, not before noon."

"You have a real case." Dr. Lisa Cuddy entered the Conference Room and dropped a stack of files on the table.

House walked back, took the upper most file and opened it on the last page, scanned the blood-work report and turned to his office again. "There, I read the ending. The butler did it."

"HOUSE!" yelled Cuddy.

"Oh, mum, five more minutes," House said opening his office door and entering.

"It's Cameron?" gasped Foreman, making House stop dead in his tracks.

"What do you mean 'it's Cameron'?" Chase asked, taking the last file of the stack. By now Dr. Christopher Taub and Thirteen were reading their copies already.

"Where is she?" asked House in a voice so low, it was barely louder than a whisper, still in the silence that took over the Conference Room, it sounded just like a shout.

"My office 'till you decide where to put her." Cuddy made her way to House and rested her hand on his shoulder for a second, before turning around and walking out of the Conference Room.

He opened the file again, this time on the first page, scanning the information there. He went on with all the other pages in complete silence. Without a word he made his way to the board and started writing symptoms, previous treatments and diagnoses in three neat columns and needed tests on a fourth one.

"Go prep her," said House after what seemed like ages of silence.

"For what ?" asked Chase.

"Everything…"

* * *

><p>House was hiding again, but this time he had a different reason from all the other times. He wasn't trying to get away from Cuddy or Clinic Duty, he was hiding to think, to think of her. He hadn't seen her in years, not since the day she came to say 'Good Bye', and now, here she was, back at PPTH and as a patient too. <em>What the hell happened to her?<em>

"Hiding?" asked Dr. James Wilson making his way to the bed House was lying on.

"Yeah!"

"And - ?" Wilson asked expectantly.

"And nothing."

"Where's your witty comeback?"

"Left it in my other pants."

"Right - " Wilson dragged. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing!"

"Not in the mood, eh? Rough night? What are you doing here at this hour anyway?"

"Doesn't matter," he said through greeted teeth.

"Riiight - "

"I have a new case, fine!" House sighed out in exasperation which seemed to get Wilson's attention more than anything else.

House didn't want to talk about it, especially not with Wilson. He knew too much and would sure ask more questions that he was ready to answer.

"What's the matter?" Wilson asked worriedly.

"She's back - " House groaned. "She's fucking back. That's the matter."

"Stacy - ?"

"Cameron - " House got off the bed. "She's sick - she's - "

"Your patient." Wilson finished with a grim face. "What's wrong with her?"

Wilson raised his eyebrows in question and House sighed.

"Dun 'know, too many symptoms and too many previous diagnosis to tell."

"Is she going to be alright?" Wilson asked in a low tone.

"I have no idea." whispered House and got up and left the room and Wilson. He could feel his eyes on him, but he couldn't stay anymore. Not when the prospect of staying was questions he wasn't ready or even willing to answer.

What could he say? 'Yeah, I used to have a thing for her, but I was the biggest ass in the world and left her leave.' wasn't really his style, and 'I think I still have a thing for her.' was just too much to handle, let alone admit it to anyone. So, for now at least, running away and hiding was just what the doctor ordered.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: _I don't own House M.D or any of the characters from it. I'm not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story. _

**Announcement**_: Nothing is set in stone here so if I change something (which I might) I'll let you know to go back to a certain chapter._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

"- so, I'm just gonna -"

"You don't have to walk me through the procedure, Remy. I know what happens during a LP." said Dr. Allison Cameron.

She was lying on her side, right arm pillowed under her head, left one propped on the table to help keep her body up-right, while Thirteen was administrating the local anaesthetic.

"Yeah, sure," Thirteen answered a little distracted though, Cameron noticed. "So, what have you been doing lately?"

"You know this and that, trying to figure this out for the last four months."

"How did it start?"

"Double vision and dizziness. I didn't give it much thought at first, but it got worst. Other symptoms came piling in and it got me worrying. Did an MRI and all the usual blood-work."

"Looking for MS?" Thirteen asked inserting the spinal needle between lumbar vertebrae L3 and L4.

Cameron didn't answer right away. She squeezed her eyes shut as the pain hit her then nodded, careful to only move her head.

They were silent for a while, and as Thirteen took out the stylet from the spinal needle, Cameron could hear drops of cerebrospinal fluid being collected in the test tube. It was an eerie sound; thick fluid splashing the tube walls; yet so familiar that without meaning to hot, wet tears started trailing down her face.

Cameron was sick of this, sick of the never-ending tests that got nowhere, sick of lying on her back or sides day-in and day-out and most of all sick of simply feeling sick. She just wanted it over with.

She felt Thirteen withdrawing the needle and placing pressure on the puncture site, just as the beeping sound of a pager filed the room.

"Shit!" Thirteen mumbled and with her free hand, the one that wasn't pressing the cotton pad on Cameron's back, started rummaging what sounded like the needle tray. "House wants to get fluid from between L4 and L5 too." she announced as another pad, wet this time - most likely soaked in iodine - was dragged above the first one.

"Why?" asked Cameron, trying to hide the tears from her voice. She just couldn't keep them at bay anymore. "It's gonna have the same result."

"You know him…" Thirteen trailed off, leaving Cameron to fill in the rest of the statement.

Yes, she did know House. She knew him, better than any of them did, and also knew without a doubt that he had a reason for demanding two LPs, and a very good reason at that, but she just couldn't handle it anymore. Tears were now trailing from her face, to her arm and eventually falling on the table.

Cameron must have let out a sob, or the sound of her voice finally got to Thirteen, because before she knew it both pads left her back and Thirteen went around the table, crouching down in front of her, wiping her tears away.

"Shush, it's gonna be okay!" Thirteen whispered, her eyes fixed on Cameron's. "House will fix this. I know he will."

Cameron didn't said anything. She just let Thirteen's voice lull her, until the sobs started fading and she finally ran out of tears.

* * *

><p>Wilson and Cuddy were in the cafeteria having lunch when House's case came up in their conversation. It wasn't a particular easy conversation for any of them. First of all they both knew and were found of Cameron, making the whole thing harder to bear, and secondly Wilson knew something that Cuddy didn't and telling her was not an option.<p>

They had been sitting there for a while now, talking of nothing and everything. Discussing conferences and articles, hospital administration issues and new cancer treatment development, when Cameron's name came up.

"… I didn't even recognized her voice at first," Cuddy told him.

"Well, you were half asleep," Wilson offered.

"Yes, but it wasn't that. She was crying, James. I never saw Cameron crying in all the years she worked here." She took a sip of her coffee and another bite of her pasta before continuing. "Anyway, she told me she needed Greg and his team, and that she was coming to PTTH in an hour tops."

"Was she in pain at the time?"

"God knows! She must have been. Why else would she rush to the hospital in the middle of the night?" She sighed. "I woke Greg up, sent him here and after getting Rachel I came too. It was about 4 AM when I got here and she was already waiting in the parking lot. Told me she'd seen Greg too, but wanted to talk to me first so she just waited until I arrived."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing, she just dumped the folder on my desk and curled up on the sofa. It took me, I don't know, ten minutes maybe the read all of it and she just kept quiet. She was shaking too, I noticed, though from fright, cold or something else, I have no idea - wrote it on her file."

"And she told you nothing?" Wilson asked incredulously.

"Nothing much: when the first symptoms started, previous diagnosis, stuff like that."

"Nothing about where she'd disappeared to? Where she's been all this time?"

"She didn't say - I didn't ask…" Cuddy trailed off and took another sip of her coffee letting her emotion full eyes fell on the window and the tall oak tree behind it.

Wilson on the other hand kept his eyes on the table, after noticing her faraway look.

He hadn't seen House at all after running into him in the treatment room on level one and he really needed to talk to him. Not that he didn't try. He looked for him in all the usual and even the unusual places, but had no luck of finding him. Wilson was sure he was still somewhere within the hospital, he wouldn't leave at a time like this, but he managed to keep himself hidden from all. Not even Cuddy knew where he was and from what she told him earlier she tried to find him too.

He had so many questions to ask, so many things to clarify and no House to help him with them.

"… I don't know what more to do." Cuddy was saying after a long period of silence, emphasized by the sound of cutlery and glass. "I left word with all department heads to give him and his team free rein and also told the labs to prioritize Cameron's tests."

"What more can you do?"

"Help!" she whispered. "Something more…"

"Come on, Lisa," replied Wilson. "You know he's not letting you anywhere near his patients on a regular case, let alone this one."

"I know - I know," she mumbled under her breath and sighed. "I just wish there was something I could do."

"You do your job," said Wilson taking her hand in his. "… and let him do his. It's what he's good at: solving puzzles, saving lives. It's gonna be okay, you'll see!"

"I know…" she repeated withdrawing her hand and taking another sip of her already cold coffee.

* * *

><p>"Sooo…" said House as the door to Dr. Chamblee's office - his latest hiding place near the Maternity ward - opened and Thirteen, Taub and Chase let themselves in.<p>

"Why are we here?" asked Chase, letting his gaze scan the place out. His eyes getting bigger when they fell on a collage showing various stages of dilatation on pregnant women. "There goes my breakfast!" he mumbled under his breath.

"Oh, grow up, you cry baby, and start coughing up the test results." piped House.

"Nothing on my end," started Thirteen. "Both LPs were clean…"

"Both? You did two? Are you trying to kill her, or something?" shouted Chase, the collage forgotten.

"Oh, go suck on a boomerang," said House, throwing Chase one of his trade death glares, before turning his attention back to Thirteen. "Go on…"

"Long story short?" House nodded. "Inconclusive, all of them."

"You there, Little-man-who-cheats-on-wife, what news have you?" said House with a teasing smirk.

Thirteen couldn't suppress her laughter, same as Chase, though he still looked at House with that 'I'm watching you' look.

"Ha-Ha… Very funny!" Taub seemed annoyed as he answered, which made House's smirk to get even bigger. "Nothing on my end either. CT showed nothing."

"Downunder - boy?"

"Nothing…" Chase passed both hand through his hair letting out a frustrated sigh. "It's like she's perfectly healthy."

"… except for that death-looming-over thing," said House all sarcasm gone from his words and even posture. This whole thing was taking a toll on him. "What about Foreman? Where is he anyway?"

"Same thing on his end," answered Thirteen.

"He's up in her room." said Chase.

"Doing what?" asked House popping a couple of Ibuprofens and swallowing them dry. "Holding her hand or something?"

"She's scared, House!" reasoned Thirteen.

"Humph!"

Nobody spoke for a while, and House was nothing but fine with it. He didn't want to know how she felt, all he was interested was medical relevant facts, nothing more and nothing less. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, maybe you'll start believing it! But, it didn't work.

He had been thinking of her constantly from the second he found out she was his patient and it sure wasn't all medical relevant. He just couldn't stop. Again and again he tried distancing himself from those thoughts but they kept coming back. Their date, their kiss and her parting words - it was all coming back now clearer than ever and it was driving him mad.

He didn't want this. He wanted clear cases, where he could just be an ass and hate the patient for the simple fact that he was dying. Cases where he didn't feel the pull to go see and comfort the patient. Instead he got her.

The beeping sound of pagers going off stopped his thoughts from going any further and he was grateful for it, until he took the pager out and read the message Foreman had sent them.

'_**She's crashing'**_

And just like that his heart and breath stopped.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: _I don't own House M.D or any of the characters from it. I'm not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

**Announcement**:_ I'm still looking for a House M.D. beta for 'Venus Syndrome', preferably someone who enjoys the story as much as I do and who's ready to spend some time beta-ing it._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

"…she's stable!" announced House swinging the door open and entering Wilson's office. "If you're interested, that is."

Wilson didn't acknowledge him at first, though he did let out a barely audible sigh of relief at the news, as his friend made his way to the couch and took a seat, perching his right leg on the small coffee table in front of it, scattering some magazines off of it. He didn't look up from the file he was reading - actually pretending to read now, as his thoughts drifted to House and his case - until he heard his loud groan and the sound of his cane hurtling to the floor.

House had his head propped on the back of the couch staring aimlessly at the ceiling, like it could offer him the answers he was so desperately looking for. He was also joggling a paper ball from one hand to the other, his thoughts nowhere near the ball, this office or even its other occupant, not that it bother Wilson in any way.

Wilson was so used to him and his moods, that anything remotely normal in any other human being would sound the alarm if coming from House, so right now there were no alarms going on, none regarding House anyway. There were though enough of them when it came to his case.

"She's dying and…" started House after a few deep breaths. His questioning eyes never leaving the ceiling. "She's dying and I have no idea how to save her."

He sounded defeated, noticed Wilson, when House tossed the ball through the still open door and slouched even more on the couch. It was so unlike House that for a second Wilson felt a chill up his spine that resembled fear so much it actually scared him. He forced it out of his mind immediately.

_It's ridiculous, _he thought searching his friend's face. _House's just having an off day. He's not giving up! He couldn't give up… not on her!_

"I'm sure you'll find…" started Wilson, but was cut off mid-sentence by House's voice.

"I don't need encouragements," he boomed. "What I need is a fucking diagnosis, but there's nothing that can account for all her symptoms."

"More than one illnesses…" Wilson offered his voice quiet and uncertain. Truth be told he was nothing but uncertain and not only about his suggestion, but about everything since House took this case.

_How can he stand it?_ Wilson thought as his eyes drifted back to the file in front of him just to avoid looking at his friend's tormented features. He didn't need to pose the question, because the answer was right there in front of him. He couldn't.

"We tried pairing the symptoms to related diseases," House sighed rubbing the back of his hands over his eyes. "…but we're always left to one or two symptoms unaccounted for."

"What about unrelated?"

Wilson knew it was a long shot; nobody could be that unlucky, then again it wasn't like having a dozen apparently unrelated symptoms could be considered a lucky strike. _Would Cameron be that unlucky?_

House's hissed "Son of a bitch…" and the rustling sound of getting off the couch was all Wilson heard before lifting his eyes and seeing him dash out the office. He didn't even notice his limp this time and he was sure he remembered him having a more pronounced limp when hurrying. Maybe it was a trick of the light, his need to save her or just desperation, but whatever it was Wilson couldn't help the smile that creped on his lips as he too rose from his chair and followed him.

_That's the House I know!_

* * *

><p>"Okay, people, give me differentials," House exclaimed as he entered the Conference Room, Wilson a few steps behind him. "We're going on unrelated diseases."<p>

"Unrelated disease…" Chase started to say, but was cut off by House.

"When did I hire you as my personal echo?" Then turning to Wilson he added: "Remind me to hire a surgeon next time; echoes are no use in differentials."

"Why unrelated?" asked Thirteen.

"Because nothing else fits," replied Foreman looking up from 'Harrison's Principles of Internal Medicine'.

"Can it be MS?" asked Taub rubbing his eyes.

"She did the tests, we did the tests - it's not MS." pointed out Thirteen. "Paraneoplastic syndrome…" she offered a second later. "It accounts for most of the symptoms."

"What, Systemic lupus erythematosus?" asked Chase.

"Or Polycythemia," said Thirteen looking up at House with a wishful expression.

"PCC," Wilson tried.

"Yeah, well you're an oncologist, what else could you say?" House teased. "She just has to have cancer."

"CPS," said Foreman as Wilson started to replay. He closed 'Harrison's Principles of Internal Medicine' with a thud and everybody looked at him expectantly. "Why didn't I think of it before? The link between most of her symptoms is pain: headaches," House limped to the whiteboard and started bordering symptoms as Foreman mentioned them. "…muscle pain and stiffness, eye pain, facial pain…"

House finished bordering even before Foreman managed to enumerate all the symptoms related to pain. He stared at the board. They now had more than half of it bordered, which left just a handful of symptoms to deal with, and of course the fact that apparently Cameron had Central Pain Syndrome which can only be managed but not cured.

"Start her on Gabapentin," House said looking directly at Taub, who rose from his chair and headed out of the Conference Room immediately. "…while we figure out the rest," he finished a second later turning back at the board.

"Leptospirosis," Chase said silently. House turned to look at him and noticed his faraway look as he stared at the board. He turned around again, as Chase continued in the same tone. "Not all the symptom manifested themselves, but…"

"Then it's not Leptospirosis," said Thirteen matter-of-factly.

"She's been visiting Derek… before she…" replied Chase in the same small voice, of someone who just made an astonishing discovery that left him speechless or a terrible mistake. "Fuck!" Chase suddenly yelped and before anyone could make heads of tails of what he was saying he too left the Conference Room running down to hall towards Cameron's room. House stared at the board for a second or two longer, and then he turned and rushed after Chase.

* * *

><p>Cameron looked up when Chase entered like a full tornado into the room, rushing to her side and slouching in the chair set up next to the bed. He reached for her hand and as she lifted her eyes to him she noticed he had such an intense gaze, that she found herself needing to look away. She turned her eyes to the glass wall, adverting her eyes from Chase's when for the first time in so many years she saw HIM looking at her.<p>

His gaze was completely different from anything she had ever experienced with Chase or any other man for that matter. His eyes were blank and cold, yet still somehow - God only knows how, she supposed - she didn't feel cold at all, on the contrary she felt warm and content, and for the first time in the same number of years she felt happy.

She didn't cared about the years that have passed, about how she used to think everything from her unhappiness, to her failed marriage was his fault, or about just how sick she was and how terrible she felt at the moment.

All Cameron cared about were his eyes, and right now they were fixed on her. Unfortunately no miracle lasts and as soon as his gaze drifted away she felt cold again.

"Tell me about Lucy." She heard Chase's voice and reluctantly turned, willing HIM to still be there when she would look again, though it was definitely more House-like to just disappear. She had no illusions that he would be, but she had hope.

"What… Why?" she asked bemused and it was just in part because of the question itself. The truth was the man behind the glass wall usually had that effect on her, though she'd expected it to be gone by now after so many years apart. But it wasn't.

"We think you have Leptospirosis," Chase replied with only half a voice, but was immediately cut off by a voice she hungered for, for such a long time.

"And CPS," House said in a childlike voice. He had a smirk in his voice she didn't need to see to know it was there; still she turned around and stared at him as he limped into the room, towards her bed and stopped only a foot away from her. "Don't skip the best parts, Kangaroo-Boy."

"I… I have…" she stammered, from the shock of the news or of being this close to House after so much time, she didn't know and frankly didn't care. "What?"

"Central. Pain. Syndrome," House drawled, punctuated each word with a tap of his cane on the floor. "You know, a neurological condition caused by damage to or dysfunction of the central nervous system…"

"Oh, for crying out loud, I know what CPS is," she replied a little frustrated and nervous as hell. "I'm a doctor too, remember."

"I do. Do you?" He gave her an arrogant grin.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you lied…" he said grinning even more than before.

"I didn't lie," she replied sternly. She wished she didn't have the IV right now so she could cross her arms defiantly and glare at him. Oh, but she did glare. She was too annoyed not to.

"… technically it was a lie through omission…" House continued as if she never spoke. "…but a lie nevertheless…"

"I don't lie," she tied again. Frustration and annoyance didn't even scratched what she was feeling at the moment. He was infuriating.

"…and doctors don't lie," he continued ignoring her completely. The only indication that he was aware of her at all, was that blasted grin that only got bigger and bigger with ever second that passed. "Or was it: 'shouldn't lie'? I can't seem to remember how you so eloquently put it."

"I didn't…" she started to yell at him, when Chase's voice stopped her mid-sentence.

"Lucy's hamster might have had Leptospirosis," he said, taking her hand again. She didn't even notice he wasn't holding it anymore. _When did that happen?_

"I'm allergic to rodents, you know that. I stayed away…" she started explaining and suddenly realization hit her. Yes, she kept away from the animal because of her allergy, but she stayed at Derek's for five days and as a result she had plenty of time and opportunities to somehow come into contact with something it already infected, or someone it had already infected. "You have to call Derek," she pleaded turning her eyes to Chase again. "They have to get tested and treated and…"

"And with that boys and girls I rest my case," she heard House snicker while he limped out of the room. She shifted her eyes form Chase to him and noticed they weren't alone anymore. Wilson, Thirteen, Foreman and Taub were all standing beyond the glass wall, wearing a look of relief. "Everybody lies!"

* * *

><p>"Mommy," House cried as he entered Cuddy's office that evening. "I want another toy; I'm done with this one."<p>

He threw a file, Cameron's file actually, on her desk and slouched on the armchair next to it, propping his damaged leg on a nearby box. The pain was killing him lately and Ibuprofen didn't do it for him anymore, but he was determined to just deal with it. No more Vicodin for him. Rehab was hell going through it once; he didn't need a do over.

"You did it," she exclaimed happily rising from her chair and making her way around the desk to him.

"Why so surprised?" He lifted an eyebrow, feign hurt.

"I'm not… I'm just happy," she said reaching to kiss him.

He didn't know why - they had been dating for six months now - but his first impulse was to back away. The problem was that it didn't remain an impulse, he did back away and from the confused look on Cuddy's face she noticed.

"Not in front of the kids," he joked pointing his cane at the open door and the hallway outside. Of course nobody was looking and even if they did nobody cared; they were old news by now; but there were a lot of people there, staff and patient alike so he just played that card.

"Sure," she laughed and lowered her head again, this time managing to give him a peck on the corner of his mouth as he turned his head.

Cuddy lifted her head and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Got to go," he piped and before she even got the chance to realize what was happening he was out of the chair, making his way out of the office. "Going out with Wilson to celebrate, you know, boys night out. You should think of switching him from Oncology to my team. He's not that bad at differentials."

"House," she called, but he had no intention of stopping now. He was almost out the door.

"Don't tell him though, he'll get cocky." And with that he was out the door without a glance back until he reached the elevator when he let out a sigh of relief.

_What the hell's wrong with me?_

* * *

><p><strong>About this chapter<strong>_: Don't get too into diagnosis here, 'cause I know nothing of medicine and the story isn't meant to be medically accurate. Anyway, just to explain a bit: I started from the symptoms of MS and worked my way from there (Systemic lupus erythematosus and Polycythemia were the exceptions they don't really fit)._

_If you're curious about them I suggest Wikipedia… That's how I found them. _


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: _I don't own House M.D or any of the characters from it. I'm not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

**Announcement**:_ I'm still looking for a House M.D. beta for 'Venus Syndrome', preferably someone who enjoys the story as much as I do and who's ready to spend some time beta-ing it._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

House arrived home, more precisely at Cuddy's place, a little after 1 o'clock in the morning. It didn't matter that he left PPTH almost ten hours ago, that he left Wilson over four hours ago, that his trip home usually takes less than thirty minutes form almost any place in New Jersey, by bike at least, or that his phone rang constantly for the last four hours - he just didn't feel like coming home.

He did feel like thinking, so he just hit some more bars after Wilson called it quits. So four hours, a dozen or so shots of scotch and two lap dances later he was still nowhere.

He just couldn't understand what that whole business earlier in Cuddy's office was. It just wasn't normal. Normal was pinning her to the desk, lifting her skirt and fucking her then and there, not backing away from an innocent kiss. Normal was enjoying a lap dance in a strip bar after four or five shots, not getting nothing form it because it wasn't the body that kept popping in his head over and over again. And definitely normal wasn't getting on somebody's nerves just because he simply couldn't say what was truly on his mind when it came to her.

_What the hell did you do to me?_ he tried asking, but nobody answered, not even his mind. _So, if it isn't normal, why the fuck am I doing it for?_ And that was the million dollar question, because he really hand no answer to it.

There were no lights on, he noticed as he got off his bike and strode to the door, and from the uncanny silence of the place; no one was awake either. Not that he wanted it to be. Right now he wanted no one around. Even the thought of slipping into bed next to someone was unappealing, and it wasn't about being next to Cuddy. It could have been Carmen Electra for all he cared and he still didn't want her there.

Nevertheless he had to get in. Cuddy was expecting it of him, hell, even Rachel was expecting it of him. _When did the world started expecting things from me?_ It didn't used to be like that. He used to be alone, in his small one bedroom, one bathroom flat, away from anyone and everyone and best of all away from expectations.

_That's not true; Cuddy expected stuff from me then too, and Wilson, and my team._ But it wasn't the same. It was work related expectations, or friendship related expectations not 'let's-play-family' expectations and they weren't this many or seemed so hard to fulfill.

House sighed, turned the key and opened the door to his 'let's-play-family' home.

He made his way to the bedroom he had been sharing with Cuddy for the last four months, taking his jacket, shirt and t-short off on the way, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. He didn't need waking Rachel up and hearing her cry, or worse, waking Cuddy up.

He managed it, or so he thought until he entered the bedroom and heard Cuddy's voice.

"You're late!"

House sighed again, as soft as he could trying to hide it from Cuddy and didn't answer. _When did I start hiding stuff like that from her? - Oh, yeah, today, when I ran out of her office because she wanted to kiss me. _

He made his way to the bed and sat, finishing undressing in complete silence, before slipping under the covers. He didn't want to talk, he was too tired and to pissed off for a talk - _or was it 'the talk'? -_ but apparently Cuddy was having none of it.

"Where were you?"

"Out," he answered matter-of-factly and turned so he had his back to her, covers drawn up to the tip of his ears. He wished they would muffle the sound of her voice enough so he could just ignore it. They didn't.

"I talked to Wilson…" she started to say, but drifted off leaving him to understand whatever he wanted to understand.

_God!_ _Isn't the back turned enough of a 'don't wanna talk about it' sign?_

"He said he got home right after 'General Hospital'," exclaimed Cuddy. Her voice was starting to get shrill-tongued and he was beginning to feel a headache coming on. "You missed it by the way…"

"I hope you TiVo-ed it," House yawned. "Was it any good?"

"Don't do that!" she piped lifting herself up to rest her back on the headboard.

He sighed and turned again, pillowing both hands under his head, staring towards the ceiling.

"Do what?"

He could have surely gone with a better line, but he just didn't have it in him to master sarcasm right now. _Hurry up! I'm falling asleep over here._ Plus, he was drunk and cranky.

"That - change the subject, like it doesn't even matter mentioning."

"It doesn't," he replied closing his eyes and willing his brain to just shut down already. _Come on, I know you can do it! I need unconsciousness - right now if you don't mind._

"Greg," she sighed trying to control her anger, though he could almost feel in the air around them, and was about to say something else when House threw off the covers and got up.

"I'm tired, I'm drunk, I'm pissed and I'm cranky as hell… Let's do this another time." He turned, gave her one of his most annoying grin, and started to walk from the bed. "Tell your agent to call my agent and we'll do lunch."

"Where are you going?" she asked after a few milliseconds of silence. She was using that shrill-tongued voice of hers that annoyed him to hell and back, making him pray to manage to get out of there before he lost his temper.

Grabbing his discarded things on the way, he turned when he reached the door, wearing only his boxers and holding a pile of clothes in his left arm and his cane in his right, and shouted just one word: "Home."

And just like that he was gone. He stopped in the living room to put his jeans on, not bothering to zip and fasten them, but immediately made his way outside when he heard Cuddy's bear feet rushing down the hall.

He was already on his bike, cane perched on its slot, cloths tossed under his seat, and as she opened the door he drove off.

* * *

><p>House didn't stopped once to think about what he was doing before reaching his old apartment building, but now that he was here he realized two very important things. One - he didn't actually wanted to be alone right now, he had too many thoughts he didn't wanted to think about just yet; and two - his apartment keys were at Cuddy's.<p>

He sighed, turned the bike abound and started to drive again.

It didn't take long before he stopped again, this time in front of a large modern house, not so different from Cuddy's. He got off the bike, made his way to the door and knowing it was useless to knock, he just rested his head on the buzzer and waited.

House let out a chuckle when the lights started to come on, first upstairs, then downstairs and he heard Wilson's sleep muffled voice.

"This better be a fucking emergency or you're dead."

* * *

><p>Wilson gave the door an angry jerk, but as soon as he looked beyond it all the anger disappeared being replaced by new feeling. It was half relief, a quarter panic and the last quarter annoyance. <em>Yeah, that's about the right way to describe House!<em>

"What the …" he started to say, but House wasn't listening. He just passed by him, making his way to the couch where he settled immediately, right leg perched on the back of it, eyes closed - he supposed - and right arm draped over his eyes.

Wilson followed him after closing and locking the door. By the looks of things he was in for a sleepless night and it was only 2:45 in the morning. He sighed and took a seat at House's feet on the couch, picking up the remote control and turning on the TV.

House wasn't the kind of guy to just answer straight questions and Wilson knew it. It was one of the reasons he didn't directly ask him about the whole Cameron situation. Still he talked, but not before he was good and ready to. So, he would just wait for him to feel like talking.

* * *

><p>He was shifting through channels, looking for something to take his mind of all the questions he knew would get no answer right now if he dared asking them, when he heard House's hoarse voice.<p>

"It's over," he said letting out a long, loud sighed, which to Wilson's ears sounded more like relief that regret.

"What?" he asked, though he had an idea what 'it' was. Still he preferred asking and not presuming. People seem to presume too much and too wrong.

"It," House said in a low voice. "Cuddy and me - it's over, or I think it's over - I don't really know."

"I'm sorry," Wilson said turning the TV volume down. House was ready to talk and he wasn't going to miss a word of it.

"Well, that makes one of us," House said still in that low, barely audible voice.

"You're not sorry?"

"No - Yes - Fuck, I don't know. It doesn't feel like it did with Stacy," he admitted.

"It shouldn't - It's different from what happened with Stacy. You're different from what you used to be - Lisa's different from Stacy - It's not the same," Wilson pointed out. His gaze never moved from the TV screen until now when he finally looked at House and saw he was staring at the screen too.

"Yeah, but - I don't know - shouldn't I feel more?"

"You're asking me?" Wilson chuckled trying to lighten the mood. "That's a first…"

"Yeah, you're right. What the hell am I thinking?" House laughed. "You know zero about relationships - you've screwed up everyone you had." He sighed and continued. "But then again so did I, though you have to admit I have more style than you're cheating ass."

"I admit to nothing unless under oath," Wilson smirked then turned serious again. This was it, the moment he could start asking questions. "What happened?"

"I'm too drunk to have a good come-back to that," House said mockingly. "Cuddy - the usual stuff, got myself to her place late, drunk and smelling of cheap perfume, after going to two strip joints, having a go at 'Danny's all you can drink' - I really wanted to see how much I could drink for $10.95 - and switching my phone to go directly to voice mail."

"I know - some of those messages are from me," Wilson laughed.

"Yeah? Did you left me…" he got his phone out of his pocket and after tasting the voice mail combination he put it on speaker. A woman's voice came on a second later.

"Welcome to voice mail services. You have now one hundred and sixty-eight new messages. For listening you messages now, press one - For saving you messages for later, press two - For deleting you messages, press three - For contacting one of our operators regarding…" That was as far as the voice managed to get before House pressed the number three key, smirking back at Wilson as the voice announced: "You have deleted you messages. You have no new messages. Thank you for…" Again House cut the voice off, this time by closing the lid on his phone and putting it back in his pocket.

"So, how many of those were yours?" he asked an annoying grin on his face.

"Four or five," admitted Wilson, wondering when exactly did Cuddy have the time to leave him one hundred sixty voice messages. "You could have listened to mine at least," he joked.

"And what, go to one hundred messages from Cuddy to get to yours? Sorry but you don't have a nice enough ass for that," House laughed.

* * *

><p>It was silence for a while, while Wilson went to get some beers from the fridge and House took advantage of it. He didn't want to think, and until now he managed to stick with that decision - no thinking equals no trouble, he reasoned, so de didn't think -, but he needed to think, though now that he thought should it, maybe he should way until he wasn't this drunk.<p>

Still thoughts didn't wait for any man and long before he was ready he found himself immersed in them. It all came back to him: Stacy, Cuddy, Cameron, the kisses - he didn't really know which one to stick to, they were just so many - the dates, being an ass, hurting them, letting them to hurt him, being in love with them. _Where the hell did that came from?_

He knew he used to be in love with Stacy and he could only assume he used to be in love with Cuddy too - probably back in med school - but he was sure he never was in love with Cameron. He liked her, yeah; wanted to get into her pants, hell yeah; maybe have a thing for a while, definitely, though that was a long shot, but he wasn't in love. She'd told him herself that.

"I thought you were too screwed up to love anyone," she'd said to him a long time ago. "I was wrong. You just couldn't love me. It's good."

…and she was right. He wasn't in love with her, he just liked her - that's it.

"… out of chips." He heard Wilson's voice over his thought and buried them again until the next time he would be alone.

"You're kidding me, no chips? What's the world coming to?" he grunted out without taking his eyes off the TV.

"…destruction, I tell you," Wilson laughed throwing a bottle to House and keeping the other one to himself.

They took the first drink in silence, before Wilson started talking again.

"So, why did you did all that stuff - you know, strip bars, cheap perfume, the works?"

"If I have to tell you, I can understand why all you're exes are exes," he snickered.

"Can't you be serious for one second?"

"Of course - …fifty-five… fifty-six… fifty-seven… fifty-eight… fifty-nine… - There you go, one second." He took another sip of his beer and laughed when Wilson turned to him with his annoyed expression. "Can't you be not-serious for a second?"

"Humph!" Wilson sighed resigned.

"I needed to find some answers," House admitted after a couple more mouthfuls of beer.

"And?"

"I'm not telling you; you'll tell mommy," he whined.

"You're helpless," Wilson laughed.

"And you're a cheater. Ah, and I'm an ass too."

"Yes you are…" Wilson said and smirked taking another sip of his beer.

Again they were surrounded by silence, except for the soft murmur of the TV, before Wilson asked one of the questions House, himself, didn't have a straight answer for.

"And a bastard, you know that, especially with Cameron? What did she ever do to deserve you to treat her like that?"

"Dun 'know!"

House took another sip of his drink and left the bottle on the low coffee table next to the couch. He turned with his back to the TV and without giving Wilson a chance to say anything more he added: "I think I'll call it a night. Bring me your best linens and let me be, my loyal subject."

Wilson stared at him for a few moments; he could feel his gaze burning a hole in his neck; and then without a second glance, he disappeared up the stairs.

"Get them you're self you lazy bastard."

"Hey, cripple here," House shouted after him, but there was no answer. He was alone again, alone with his thoughts.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: _I don't own House M.D or any of the characters from it. I'm not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

**Announcement**:_ I'm still looking for a House M.D. beta for 'Venus Syndrome', preferably someone who enjoys the story as much as I do and who's ready to spend some time beta-ing it._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Cameron woke up to the sound of a heart monitor, her heart monitor, changing his normal beeping pattern to a buzzing sound, which usually meant no heart rhythm. She blinked a few times in the light, trying to adjust her eyes before she heard HIS voice over the buzzing, beeping and dripping sounds of the room.

"How nice of you to come back to the living again," he drawled and as she turned to look in his direction she saw him disconnecting her from the machines around the bed. "Good!" He switched of the oxygen machine she used for a few hours before going to sleep then added. "You're cured and now you can leave."

"What?" she struggled to say, but her voice was low and sleepily hoarse.

"You're out of here," House responded taking down her IV. "Free - Cured - You know, the works, now scram."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

It was a cavernously voice Cameron didn't recognize and as such didn't made the effort to turn and look to see who it belonged to, not when she was waiting for House to answer either her or the voice - didn't really matter who - provided she got the answer.

"She's getting discharged," House growled taking his cane off the end of her bed and making his way to the other side of the room to a drug cabinet.

"Oh, Dr. House," the voice acknowledge him which so much disdain that it made Cameron cringe and chuckle at the same time. She finally turned to look at the voice's owner and saw a male nurse, probably in his early thirties frowning down at House. "…but the patient's not scheduled for discharge for another week."

"She's my patient and I say she's discharged," House boomed still rummaging through one of the cabinet's drawers.

The nurse - Timothy King, form what the name plate on his chest said - made his way to the end of Cameron's bed and took out her chart. He scanned it for a while frowning like it had House's face drawn on, until a second or two later a wide grin spread on his face. He looked straight at Cameron, winked and gave her a huge smile, before turning to House with his arms crossed on his chest, the chart still in his hand.

"I beg to differ, doctor, but she's not you patient."

"Of course she is, you idiot," House turned to glare at him. "I've just saved her perfectly shaped ass yesterday. So if she's not dying, there's no ground for her to be staying."

"Hey," nurse King started. "Be a little more respectful you bastard. She's not only a patient, but a woman. Didn't you're mother…"

"Oh, for crying out loud," House cried throwing his hands in the air. "She used to be my fucking employee, you moron - Fuck, we even dated…"

"It was one date," Cameron piped flaring up. She wasn't really annoyed with the fact that House was mentioning their disastrous date, but of the fact that he was mentioning it so lightly, like it meant nothing. Apparently that date had no effect on him whatsoever and she was again an idiot for thinking otherwise.

"That's no reason to…" nurse King started, but as House strode to him he felt silent.

House took the chart from his hand, giving him one of his nurse reserved death glare and turned to Cameron. He wasn't reading the chart, he was just looking at her - expecting an answer to a question he didn't posed, she guessed.

"Well?" he finally growled, when it became evident she wasn't going to say anything.

"Doctor…" nurse King started again, only to be interrupted by House's voice.

"I'm talking to her, Dumbbell, not you," he boomed, never taking his eyes of her.

Cameron continued to stare. She had a pretty good idea what the unspoken question was, but she had no intention of answering it. Not after yesterday, not after today, hell, not after every moment he spent tormenting her in the past. She still loved him - boy did she love him - but she wasn't his personal door mat and he sure wasn't going to step on her or her feelings again. So she kept silent.

"Cameron," House warned, but it had no impact - visibly at least, or so she hoped. "Fuck it, Cameron, tell me!" he demanded and again she said nothing.

"Miss, do you want me to get him out of here?" nurse King asked taking a menacing step towards House.

"You stay out of this," House growled, turning just a fraction towards nurse King before bringing his gaze back to Cameron. "Tell me," he repeated in a low dangerous voice, still not looking at the chart.

"You can read, can't you?" she asked with a smirk to rival those House used to shoot her way. "It's all there" - she pointed at the chart - "just read it."

"You switched doctors." It wasn't a question, more of a matter of fact statement. "Why?"

"Not you're business," she answered flatly.

"Why, Cam… - Allison," he asked and suddenly she was very thankful for not being on the heart monitor anymore, because her breath and heart halted at the sound of her name, her first name, coming from him. He must have noticed something because he smirked triumphantly at her. "Why did you fire me? Don't you trust me anymore, Allison?"

Cameron knew he was playing her weaknesses like he would a well-tuned piano, pressing the right keys by using her name, but her logical part of the brain, the one that knew for a fact all that, was conveniently out of order, because all she could think about was just how wonderful her name sounded on those lips. She knew those lips, intimately knew them, and they tested better than anything she ever tasted in her life, yet right now she thought that kissing them when they were murmuring her name, should taste hundreds of times sweeter and she desperately wanted to test her theory.

"Why, Allison," House asked again, dragging her out of a fantasy where his lips were on hers again, kissing her, tasting her.

* * *

><p>"Why, Allison?" House asked her again, smirking when he saw just how far away she was coming from.<p>

_Day dreaming, Allison?_ He thought about asking when he suddenly realized that he'd used her first name again. He had been using it for the last couple of minutes because he enjoyed the stir it got out of her, but there wasn't any point of using it in his mind, now was it - _So, why use it?_

He didn't know the answer to that one either. Apparently he didn't know the answer to a lot of things lately and what was even more disconcerting was the fact that almost all of those things were somehow related to her.

_Why did she have to come back? _He used to have such a perfect, peaceful life - well, that's a lie. He had an acceptable life for a while. He could even go as far as to call it 'good', but it was far from perfect. It was everything he ever wanted, yet nothing he needed and though he didn't know what was that he needed, he knew it wasn't in the life he had been living for the last six months, or the one he had been living since the infraction. Yeah, he had Cuddy… and Wilson… his team and a job he loved, but there still were so many things that weren't there.

_Speakin' of Cuddy - barely managed to avoid her this morning._ House had to come in about an hour earlier than he usually did - that was also the reason he was in Allison's room at this hour - and enter through the ER just to make sure he wouldn't run straight into her. He knew they would have to meet and talk at some point, but not now, not with the massive hangover he was nursing at the moment. Later, they would talk later. Even though he didn't want to, he had to - he needed his stuff back from her place.

_I could stay at Wilson's for a while longer;_ he mussed, _and delay the inevitable for a few more days. He wouldn't mind - actually he would but I like it that way. _He smirked thinking he really needed to pay Wilson a visit. He hadn't bugged him at all today - with avoiding Cuddy, hiding in coma guy's room and annoying Allison, he just didn't have the time, yet.

"… you're a bastard!" Allison's voice brought him back to the matter at hand.

"Just figured that out?" He laughed. "Took you long enough."

"Don't worry, I've known since about two minutes into my interview," she replied and as he focused his haze on her again, he notice a little smile creeping up her face.

"And you still felt in love with me," he teased. "What does that say about you?"

"That I'm pathetic," she replied in a small voice, blushing furiously. It was a nice blush, he noticed. It took over her entire face, neck and what he could see of her chest, turning it an interesting shade of pink - not to bright and not to pale, just right.

"…or that you have excellent taste in men," he joked. "I haven't decided which yet. So, back to our little problem: 'Who?' and 'Why?'."

"It's not…"

He cut her off. "And don't give me that 'isn't any of your business' crap. Just answer the damn question."

"Because you're a bastard," she sighed. "… and it's Cuddy."

"I've always been a bastard and Cuddy's as much of a doctor as I'm a veterinary," House smirked earning a small smile from Allison. _I'm doomed,_ he suddenly thought. _Now I'm constantly referring to her as Allison. What the fuck? _

He let out a resigned sigh and continued. "We both know the basics, but that's about it. So my question stands - Why?"

"You did your part…" Allison trailed off leaving him fill in the 'You solved your puzzle' part. "I just need to be kept under observation for a couple of days and…"

"Foreman needs to keep you under observation," he said speaking over her. "So again I ask 'Why?'."

House groaned when from behind him he heard Cuddy's voice answering him. "Because I took you and your team off the case."

_And here it goes,_ he thought turning to acknowledge her. He didn't want her here, or any other place he was in, for that matter, but here she was standing in the doorway, with nurse 'what's his name' by her side, both glaring at him. He had to admit though, that at that moment the guy's glare looked like a day-old kitty's glare, compared to Cuddy's loathing full one.

"You can go, Timothy," Cuddy continued, her eyes fixed on House. He didn't like the hurt he saw there, but he didn't feel any pangs of guilt either. He felt nothing actually and just like that one of the many unanswered questions that were plaguing him was answered. He didn't love her, not like he thought he did and he really wasn't sorry because it was over.

"And thanks for paging me," added Cuddy a second later, almost as an afterthought.

"You rat," House squeaked and glared at the male nurse, who just sneered and made his way out the door and down the hall without a word.

"House," Cuddy started, but was cut off almost immediately by House's whines.

"Argh, mum, why did you take my toy away? I was having so much fun with it."

"Hmph!" puffed Allison and though he couldn't see, he could feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. "Fun, riiight!" She muttered under her breath and he couldn't avoid chuckling at her tone.

"Your work is done and you all need a rest," Cuddy answered matter-of-factly, her glare never changing. "I thought you'll be happy - I gave you all the rest of the week off."

"But, you took my toy away," he whined, rubbing his eyes with his fists just like a child does when crying. "I want it back! I wanna - I wanna - I wanna!" If not for his bum leg, he would have jumped up and down jut to annoy her even more.

"Well, you can't have it back," she shouted. "So, just deal with it!"

Cuddy glared at him a second longer, before turning and walking out of the room.

"I'm gonna tell dad," he shouted after Cuddy, trying his best not to laugh and spoil all the fun of annoying her to hell.

"You two have a weird dynamic," Allison muttered, this time a little louder, probably for his benefit. "Do you have this kind of incestuous kink in the bedroom, too?"

"Neah, we used to go with the student - teacher one," he teased, turning to her again. She was having trouble containing her laughter, but she managed, barely. "… or doctor - patient. Hell, doctor - nurse was fun, too. But that's old news, now I'm back to playing all sorts of kinky games - Hookers love them, you know!"

"Wow, didn't expect Cuddy to be up for such an open relationship," she offered with a smile. Apparently all the hard work he put into getting a stir out of her, went down the drain somewhere during the last minutes, probably when he started using her first name. _Damn!_

"Yeah, so open that we're not even in it anymore," he laughed and strode to the end of the bed, where he perched her chart back - he almost forgot he still had it.

"What? I'm sorry!" Allison said, her bright smile fading into a sad one. "What happened?"

"None of your business," he said a little harsher that he intended as he, too, turned and walked away from her room.

* * *

><p>House got back to Wilson's, a little before noon, after letting his team know they were off the hook for the week and a patient short. They were excited enough, though Chase, as well as Foreman, seemed to be as fazed as he was about Cuddy taking them of Allison's case. Hell, they didn't even know the whole story and they were seeing something wrong with it.<p>

Wilson on the other hand, knew something was wrong. From the second House bounced into his office, telling him about his encounter with Cuddy, Wilson had the same general idea, that it somehow had something to do with him sleeping on Wilson's couch. Well, it was done now and there really wasn't anything they, mainly he, could do about it - except for getting under her skin at every opportunity, that is.

He walked in, sat on the couch, perching his right leg on the coffee table - something Wilson would have a fit if he saw -, let his cane fall next to the couch and started shifting through channels on the TV, looking for something to keep his mind blank long enough to drift off to sleep. It shouldn't take that long, taking into account the two or three hours a night he slept since taking Allison's case and the one and a half hour he manage to sleep the night before.

Again, Dr. Gregory House was right, as it was maybe fifteen minutes later that he was already fast asleep in a not so comfortable position on Wilson's couch, for the second time that day.

* * *

><p>It was a little after eight o'clock on Sunday evening when House stood leaning on his bike looking at the house before him, with a skittish feeling in his gut he didn't remember having in a very long time. He buried it under the calmness scotch always offered him - <em>I knew it was a good idea to have some before I came!<em> - and made his way to the door.

It didn't took long after the second knock to start hearing sounds coming from the otherwise still house, mainly voices that he had no problem recognizing as Cuddy's and her sister's.

"Greg," Julia greeted him a second later when she opened the door.

"Bitch," he responded with as much courtesy as the use of the nickname he'd given her, when they first meet, could afford.

"So lovely to see you again," she continued stepping out on the porch and closing the door behind her, in the process forcing him to take a few steps back. "You've came to disintegrate what's left of Lisa's broken heart? Or maybe remove it completely? Didn't know you're into surgery but maybe you've learned a trick or two since I last saw you."

Oh, how he wanted to just lash out at her, but he wouldn't. Now was definitely not the time, not if he wanted his stuff back, so he just stood there waiting for her lashing out to be over with.

"Do you have any fucking idea what you did to her," she went on, becoming more enraged with every venom-dripping-word she said. "Of course, you don't! You have no fucking clue, because you left. She called and called and guess what? She always got voice mail, because you fucking bastard are too much of a coward to talk to her."

"I'm here now, aren't I?" He asked, suddenly slipping the reins he had on his temper.

"Too little too late," she shouted, turned and made to step back in the house, when she stopped. "Lisa! I told you to let me handle…"

Neither House nor Julia, had heard the door opening or seen Cuddy coming up behind them, but she did and she was now only a few steps away from where they had been arguing.

"Go watch Rachel," Cuddy said stopping Julia mid-sentence.

"But…" Julia started again, only to be interrupted one more time by Cuddy.

"Thanks Jul! I'll take it from here."

When Julia still hadn't made any move to leave them alone, House lost his temper and growled.

"You've heard her, scram!"

"Son of a bitch," Julia muttered as she finally made her way to the door.

"Mommy!" House piped, getting an annoyed glare from Cuddy and the finger from Lisa just before she disappeared behind the oak door.

"So, what the hell do you want?" asked Cuddy as soon as the door was closed.

* * *

><p><strong>About Venus Syndrome<strong>: I've posted three chapters very soon one after another, because I finally managed to get out of my writer's block and because by this time next week I won't be able to write any more.

Until next time, just read, enjoy and review…


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: _I don't own House M.D or any of the characters from it. I'm not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

**Announcement**: _I'm looking for a House M.D. beta for 'Venus Syndrome', preferably someone who enjoys the story as much as I do and who's ready to spend some time beta-ing it._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

_What the fuck am I doing?_ House thought as he thrust hard and deep into the body in front of him, mercilessly taking his pleasure not giving a shit about hers. He didn't want her to enjoy it, hell, he didn't want himself to enjoy it, and yet here they were. It was sex and it was brutal, rough and violent - for crying out loud; he just bent her over the back of a chair, slid down her sweatpants and panties and started fucking her - no gentleness, no romance, no foreplay, no nothing.

He wondered how had he gotten form arguing a few steps away from the front door,to sticking his tongue down her throat, to pushing her up against the wall while she texted Julia to take Rachel for ice-cream, to screwing her in the middle of her living room - his fingers digging into her ass and hips, leaving behind ten marks soon to be bruises - when all he wanted a few minutes ago was his stuff back.

Something happened, something trigger it, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what it was.

He was close, so close he could almost taste his climax on the tip of his tongue and he hated himself for it. He didn't want it and sure as hell didn't need it - he'd just jerked off a few hours ago in the shower - and still it was inevitable. Just a couple of deep, rough thrusts more and he was coming so hard his legs stopped supporting his weight and he collapsed on her back.

Oh, how he hated it and himself right now.

"That was…" she was struggling for breath under his weight and everything they had done. "It was…"

He never got the chance to find out what or how it was - he could imagine it though and he really didn't need to hear it also - as her pager went off and immediately after, his phone.

* * *

><p>Dr Remy "Thirteen" Hadley was having an off day. One of the worst off days if she was perfectly honest with herself, which she wasn't most of the time - a trick that she'd pick up after just a month working for House.<p>

She had just finished another dose of her Tetrabenazine treatment and was walking down to Diagnosis, just for the fun of it - she would say - maybe get some alone thinking time, catch on some charting or God knows what else she would think of to say if somebody bothered to ask. They never did though.

They all knew of course - the whole hospital did - it wasn't a secret for so long, that it wasn't even good gossip anymore. It was just a fact: she had Huntingtons and the world kept on spinning. The truth was that the Diagnosis Department was the place she went every Sunday after her treatment to wait for the side effects to ease off enough so she would be able to drive herself home.

Today was the same as always with dizziness and drowsiness, fatigue, nervousness and akathisia - nothing really new under the sun for Thirteen in general or for the last dozen or so Sundays of her life in particular, but somehow a worst pain in the ass than normal.

Thirteen couldn't even remember the last time she felt like this, which was more like crap than usual. Was it her first Tetrabenazine dose, the moment she was diagnosed or the first time she made jerky, random, and uncontrollable movements? God only knew! All she knew was that 'shit' didn't even start to cover just how she felt now.

She was pacing back and forth the Diagnosis Department corridor, trying and failing to quell down her anxiety, when she noticed two nurses and one doctor - she couldn't remember his name at the moment and blame it on the Tetrabenazine treatment - rushing to one of the private rooms on the far end of the hallway. They were dragging along a crush cart, the doctor shouting instructions left and right.

Something was happening, something bad, but Thirteen's brain was just too foggy to process the information just now.

It was a couple of seconds later, after a high enough dose of adrenalin crossed her system, that she finally got over her nervousness for enough time to focus on what was happening - _Fucking meds!_ - and just like that it, all of it, hit her.

She knew the doctor, the nurses, the room and more important the patient. _What the hell?_

Thirteen made her way down the corridor running as fast as she could and without a second thought to anything except for what she would see in that room she walked in.

"Page Dr. Cuddy!" shouted Dr Chu, the doctor whose name Thirteen just remembered, to no one in particular, just as one of the nurses rushed pass her towards the nurses' station. "Two milligrams of Epi - STATS!"

Before she got a chance to really look around the room, especially towards the bed where the patient was lying, her phone was out and she was speed dialing House's number.

* * *

><p>House took his phone out of his jeans' pocket even before he slid out of Cuddy and without looking at the caller ID he answered with an annoyed edge to his voice.<p>

"What?"

He wasn't annoyed by the call itself, not even for disturbing his post coitus inferno, because it sure as hell wasn't bliss what he was feeling. He would have cherished it for days, probably weeks to come if only it would have come just a few minutes earlier, but it didn't. It was simply too little, too late.

"House, it's…"

"My favorite lesbian duckling, yes I know. Now, tell daddy what the hell do you want."

"Something's wrong!"

"Your treatment… Best call Foreman; I'm not into the 'caring' business…"

"Not me, you…"

"It's not me either," he smirked tucking himself into his jeans, just as Cuddy walked away from him to find her pager. "Nothing wrong with me… Fit as a fiddle an' all that."

_Well, nothing physical at least_, he thought wondering once again what in the world made him fuck Cuddy. He was sick - _Yeah, that's it!_ - the only plausible explanation for it. No sane person would have done what he did. He was sick and in dire need of some treatment, though he would never admit it to anyone but himself.

"Got to go," said Cuddy running towards the door, grabbing her keys and a jacket on the way out. He turned to see her leave, his left eyebrow disappearing into his hairline. "Cameron's crushing…"

She must have said more, he was sure he saw her lips moving, but as he heard Thirteen's reply "It's Cameron…" almost at the same time with Cuddy's reply, he heard nothing more.

_Fuck!_

House finished dressing while limping out of the house and was already on his motorcycle when Cuddy's car drove off, leaving behind a thick cloud of dust.

"Talk!" he shouted over the roar of the engine. He'd switched to hands-free even before exiting the house - he needed to talk, drive and think without getting to the hospital in the back of an ambulance.

"BP's 60 over 40… Fever 108.2…"

He didn't know why Thirteen was panting, but right then he didn't give a fuck. All that he cared about was Cameron's vitals and more important Cameron herself.

"Fuck!" he muttered under his breath, though at the level of noise around him only shouting could get across to Thirteen. "Go on!" he shouted and speed up, his safety the last thing on his mind as his bike went well over the city speed limit.

"It's been about five minutes since they gave her Epi and three or four since they started CPR. There's also…"

He groaned with every value Thirteen listed. They were all either too low, or too high and all leading to the same thing, and that was just not an option. Not if he could do something about it.

"Call the team - And I don't want to hear any crap about being on leave."

"House, it's Cuddy's case, not…"

"Do I sound like I give a fuck? Call them! I'll be there in ten."

* * *

><p>It wasn't ten, but almost thirty minutes later when the elevator's doors opened on the fourth floor and out came a murderous looking Gregory House. He'd run every red light there was, taken shortcuts through sidewalks, back alleys, and even a restaurant terrace, cut across all that was there driving alongside him and still didn't felt he was going to make in to the hospital on time.<p>

And boy, just how right he was!

_Speeding tickets and hospital emergencies sure as hell doesn't mix… Well, at least I beat Cuddy here!_ he noticed as he scanned the corridor that lead to Cameron's room. It was dead silent, no rushing around, no voices - not any he could hear anyway -, no nurses and doctors mulling about - and that scared the hell out of him.

He limped to her room, rushing down the hall like no other cripple could rush, yet he somehow managed, only to find her room empty.

_That explains the silence, but where the hell is she?_

His phone was out of his pocket and the number dialed even before his brain registered the action. He was doing that a lot lately, going on autopilot.

"Where is she?" he asked as soon as the ringing stopped and well before his interlocutor managed to utter a single word.

There was a stunned silence for a while, a few seconds at most, but an eternity in House's book, before he heard Thirteen's loud sigh "ICU… They managed to stabilize her and…"

But he didn't give her a chance to continue - he hang up on her. He got what he needed, for the moment at least, the rest could and will come after he got to see for himself.

He was back in front of the elevator doors, trying to get ready for the trip down to the Intensive Care Unit, so fast that if it weren't for the cane, nobody would have suspected he was really a cripple. Too bad nobody was there to see it, because he didn't even noticed it.

* * *

><p>Thirteen gave a startled cry when she was awaken from her internal differential on Cameron's case which essentially was drug and nervousness induced, by a loud bang as the ICU door hit the wall. She didn't need to turn to know it was House - the <em>swish, thump<em> noise made by his footsteps and cane was a sure give away, as well as the screeching sound of his voice shouting demands and questions left and right. Nobody answered him; they all just stood there, rooted to the spot, seemingly incapable of moving or talking and looking at him like he was some kind of a mad man.

_Welcome to the club,_ she though bitterly as his tall, imposing, yet somehow vulnerable frame came into view. She was watching him from her spot, behind a cabinet next to the door, where she stood leaning on the glass wall working on controlling all the side effects that didn't lessened down just yet. Well, it wasn't really bitterness - not towards him anyway - it was more on the lines of frustration, frustration on another incorrect diagnosis, on another patient on the brick of death and most of all, frustration on Cuddy for taking them off the damn case.

Yeah, she was really frustrated and still nothing compared to what she saw in House's eyes when they flashed towards her for a second. He seemed to be looking for confirmation on the silence or maybe an answer, she didn't really know, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she didn't want to be the one on the end of that glare.

_Don't really want to be Cuddy right now, or any other sucker for that matter,_ she thought as he turned around again shouting some more at the staff. Again, nobody answered, but he did manage to make one of the four nurses in ICU, rush out of the room with tears in her eyes. The funny part, if there could be something funny in all this, was that, that particular nurse wasn't even on Cameron's case.

There was so much in House's look, so much anger and fear that she found herself remembering the time she went home after her Huntingtons was confirmed. It was the same look she saw in the mirror that night - same anger and hate, same fear and anxiety, same horrible, horrible despair. Thirteen had given up that day and that's what the look was for, but House… House never gave up. So the look in his eyes scared the shit out of her.

"What happened?"

Thirteen looked startled for a second, before managing to compose herself enough, giving the circumstances and her Tetrabenazine side effects, to lift her eyes to his and answer.

"I only know what I saw and heard before they kicked me out of her room." She paused. She wanted so much to just take a break, curl up in her chair up in Diagnosis and to simply be alone with her dizziness and emotions, but House's 'tell me all and don't leave a fucking thing out' glare made her continue. He turned his back to her even before she started again. "Twenty minutes of CPR - I was kicked out after eight or nine of those… transferred here on Cuddy's orders I s'ppose… no idea what caused it yet, well except for the fever - they took blood samples for a new set of tests…"

"Looking for infection?" House asked never turning to look at her and she was glad he didn't. This was one time, when being ignored was the best case scenario.

"S'ppose, but then again right now my brain's all but shut down so I can't really…"

"I have more confidence in you like this, then in them," He gestured towards the doctors and nurses that hovered around Cameron's bed. "… any day. So, just stop fishing for compliments and go on!"

"I wasn't…"

"Yeah, yeah… Now get the fuck on with it!" He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself maybe, though it had no visible calming effect, not if his shoulders rising and falling were any indication of it. "How long was she out?"

"I don't…" started to whisper Thirteen, but House cut her off immediately.

"You know… Tell me!"

"I don't, I swear…"

"Thirteen…" he bellowed and one more nurse rushed out of the ICU. If it was simply to cry like the other one did or just to escape his probable anger, she didn't know. But right then, when all that wrath was directed at her, Thirteen wished to be able to run as well. She never used to want that, but then again House wasn't this thundery on a daily basis, nor was she this high on Tetrabenazine all the time.

The right or wrong circumstances House would say… Well, right now she hated those circumstances and all she really wanted was peace and quiet. _Dream on, girl! Not gonna happen._

"Anywhere from three to ten minutes I guess."

"How long?" House asked again, this time his piercing blue eyes digging deep holes into Dr Chu skull as if that way he'd see the answer running around the guy's head. But all he got was more silence and from the way his shoulders were moving up and down, Thirteen knew it was only a matter of seconds before he'd explode.

His rage was so evident, so palpable even, that for the first time that evening, Thirteen felt it bubble inside of her too. There was no more nervousness or anxiety left in her, no more drowsiness and fatigue - hell there was nothing but anger and fear, and if she was experiencing it at this levels, God only knew how House really felt.

* * *

><p>"How long?" House shouted again when the silence grew too much for him to stand it even a second longer.<p>

_What the fuck is wrong with them?_ Can't they see just how much he needed to know? How much it matter… how much he cared? How much he couldn't stand looking down at her sleeping form on that bed? How much it hurt… The answer was they couldn't.

_How could they? _He didn't shout it from the top of his lungs, or whisper it as a prayer to the heavens - _Not that I believe all this crap about Heaven and Hell and God_… - hell, he didn't even show it in the way he looked at them or her, so how could they know.

Nobody did, not even him, though he felt it and lived it.

He needed to know… needed to know so he could fix her, so he could make it all better again, so he could stop caring. He needed to know and no one was telling him anything.

There were just so many scenarios, so many possibilities and probabilities. Too many…

_Fuck… Fuck… Fuck!_

Why did she have to come back? He didn't want her to, not when having her here meant he'd care. Not when having her here, meant she'd die because he just wasn't good enough, fast enough or clear minded enough. He didn't want her here…

"No oxygen to the brain for eight and a half minutes," said Cuddy's voice blocking at least for now his internal one.

House never turned towards her. He continued to watch the doctors, the nurses, the machines near the bed or the bed itself, always avoiding the woman sleeping in it. He didn't need to see her, just cure her, but now…

Now it was nearly impossible to do that.

She was alive, yes… but… but that was it. Eight and a half minutes were simply too much.


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: _I don't own House M.D or any of the characters from it. I'm not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

**Announcement**: _I'm looking for a House M.D. beta for 'Venus Syndrome', preferably someone who enjoys the story as much as I do and who's ready to spend some time beta-ing it._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

It was evening again when House resurfaced after his self-imposed isolation. He couldn't be around them anymore, not now when he needed to think so badly his brain seemed to be just one step away from implosion.

Well, think he did, but as much as he wanted to, there was no answer waiting for him at the end of the day. No reasons, no cures and worst of all no hope. He'd lost it all hours ago when Cuddy told him for how long she'd been dead before bringing her back.

He entered his office, relieved to see the Conference Room empty. His team must be still looking for him, or they just given up hope like he did and left. It didn't matter, nothing really did anymore. He'd failed.

_It wasn't your case anymore,_ that annoying little voice in his head said. It kept popping up when he least expected or wanted it, telling him how this wasn't his fault, but he knew the voice lied. It was his fault, of course it was. He'd failed, he let her go without as much as a fight, he'd let her die because he just couldn't keep his dick in his pants. It was all him, all of it.

Allison came to him and he failed.

After closing the blinds and submerging the room into darkness, he took his seat on the couch, left knee bended under him, right leg stretched in front of him, his cane resting somewhere on the floor. His leg hurt, more now after so many hours of pacing and standing than ever, so he took out that little bottle of Vicodin he stole from the pharmacy after he left her in ICU.

It was full, not one pill missing from it - he hadn't needed it before, though he was sure he'll need the relief soon enough. But he still didn't take any. He just stared at the orange bottle for a while, remembering all the times Allison nagged him about taking too many of those little white doses of heavenly pain-free moments.

Then he remembered giving them up, going to rehab and through the nightmare of detox - those were the days, days he hated, sure, but just another walk in the park compared to this day. She was still herself then, her infuriating, loving, nagging, brilliant self. His support - but he didn't have that anymore.

He'd missed her nagging, he could admit to it now because it didn't matter anymore. The chances of that happening again were so slim, they could have been less than zero and it wouldn't make any difference to him or to her for that matter.

She was lost… He'd let her get lost and now, for the first time after so many years the little white pills seemed too tempting to indulge just in one or two. He wanted the whole bottle.

_Should I?… Would it matter?… _

He'd failed and now she was gone, or as close to gone as anybody could be and he could do nothing to bring her back. She'll wake up from the coma someday, sure, but what would it matter. Lack of oxygen to the brain equaled neurological issues even if it was just for a minute or two, but almost ten minutes… eight and a half minutes was simply too much.

"Any changes?"

He didn't hear Wilson coming in, he would have kicked him out even before he step one foot in his office if he did, but he heard nothing at all. His thoughts were too far, he was too far away from this place, from his own body to sense anything.

He didn't want him here. _Why is he here anyway? It's way too late for dying kids to need him. _Well, he guessed it was late. The truth was he had no idea of what time it was, or what day, month or year. His brain stopped processing stuff like that somewhere along the way.

"Dun' know… Haven't talked to anybody since…"

House didn't look up as he heard Wilson walking further into the room and then the sound of metal legs dragged on the carpet, but he did catch a glimpse with the corner of his eye of Wilson taking a seat in the chair he just settled in front of the couch a little to his left.

He didn't want him here; heck, he didn't want anybody here… That's a lie! He wants Allison here awake and well just as she used to be, but that's never going to happen so why dwell on it. He didn't want anybody, especially Wilson, here; he was just too good at that psychological crap and right now House didn't need him in his head as well. There was enough madness in there without Wilson poking at it.

"What's with the Vicodin?"

"Ah… That's what this is? Fuck, they got my order mixed up again; I specifically asked for Tic Tacs."

"Thinking of taking some?"

"Nope… Thinking of sticking a rod up its ass and making it into as a rattle toy. Do you think I should make a bunch of them and take them up to NICU…"

"House…" tried Wilson, in the same leveled tone voice he'd used since he entered, the same one he always used when discussing prognostics with his patients - it usually worked. Then again, his patients weren't usually House.

"… or I could just hand the pills out in Pediatrics instead of candies. The kids would love them, right?"

"House…" Wilson tried again, but it was no use.

"Or better yet, I should just swallow the whole fucking bottle and add a bottle of scotch in the mix and then wait and see what happens!"

House was yelling now and still didn't once look up at Wilson's face. He couldn't look, not if that meant seeing just how pitifulness he really was. He knew he was, he just didn't want or need to see it in his best friend's eyes. Not yet anyway.

Wilson started to say "It's not…", but was cut off before he got to the third word.

"My fault? - Anything I could have done about it? - Really? And whose is it then? Who could have done something about it? Tell me… Tell me, so I can go shove this bottle and my cane down his or hers throat… because I don' know anymore Wilson. So, you tell me - Who the fuck is responsible for turning her into…"

House paused working to catch his breath after all that yelling, before he finished in almost a whisper. "…a vegetable…"

It was that moment that House first looked up from the floor, scanning Wilson's expression with red rimmed almost tearful eyes. Right now he wanted to see the pity he knew he would find there, wanted to feel it pulsing from Wilson to him, because he needed to feel disgusted with himself - what he already felt wasn't not even close to enough. Not when it still left him feeling other stuff too.

_Vicodin, could help,_ he suddenly thought tossing and turning the orange bottle in this hand, his eyes leaving Wilson and following the bottle's path. _Just one swallow - I know I can take them all at once - and then blissful nothing. _He wouldn't even have to feel self-disgust anymore, just numbness and silence and nothing.

"You're acting like she's dead," Wilson stated after a few minutes of silence, his own anger getting the best of him. _Why didn't he just go?_ "She's - Nothing's really sure, House. She could be fine, or…"

"Yeah right…" he trailed off, his eyes still fixed on the pills that rattled inside the orange encasing. It could be so easy to do it!

But could he really? Could he just pop the whole bottle, pill after pill after pill?

_Wouldn't I be failing her again if I do?_

She'll be hurt, damaged and scared when she finally wakes up. Shouldn't he be there to help her or something?

_I should, yeah!_ _I should be there; solve the case maybe, hope… No there's no hope, or at least I don't have any anymore… But others have, don't they? Chase will hope - he has to, he still loves her - Foreman could hope - not really the hoping type, but he cares about her - Wilson, he always hopes and the others too Thirteen, Taub, Cuddy, even that dumbass male nurse - Kong, King, whatever his name is - her family, they would hope. _

_Yeah, there wold be hope and I'll be me. That should work!_

House tossed the Vicodin bottle up in the air again, at least a foot higher this time, watching it turning five times as it went up and two on its way down. He caught it in his left hand while with his right one he picked up the discarded cane and stood with some difficulty, leaning almost all of his weight on his cane. He tossed the bottle to Wilson and started to walk towards the door.

"What…" Wilson started but stopped almost immediately, turning and watching House opening the office's door.

"You do the rattle thingy. I have a patient to diagnose…" he trailed off as he took out from his jacket's pocket the bottle of Ibuprofen, taking two and swallowing them dry. "By the way, do you know where my babies are, especially the black one?"

"I don't know about Foreman, but Chase was called back for some emergency surgery from ER, Thirteen was helping down at the Clinic when I came up and I think Taub went home."

"Ah… Well then, you be Santa's Little Helper and let them know about the meeting."

"What meeting?"

"The one we'll be having in…" he took out his phone to look at the time, and then put it right back in his pocket, completely ignoring the list of missed calls. There were at least fifty of them, plus a few texts, but he didn't really care about them right now. He had a case to solve and a young woman's life to make better - no matter what 'better' meant anymore. "… two hours. Chase should be out by then, right?"

"I guess so, but why … I mean, what are you going to do 'till then?"

House gave him his widest grin, before answering.

"Go to the deep cleavage Medusa's lair…" he laughed. "If I'm not back in an hour, call backup and come to the rescue."

* * *

><p>House's first thought was to call Cuddy and see if she was still around, but he dismissed it immediately. He needed to have some fun and irking Cuddy was his favorite past time. So, he had a new plan: to burst into her office unannounced like he always did, after scooping around the nurses' station for information on her whereabouts.<p>

"Wilma I'm home! Where's my dinner?" he shouted as he entered the Dean of Medicine's Office, making Cuddy yelp in fright.

"Greg, what are you… Where were you?"

"Oh, mum… There was this party and I just had to go."

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern clear in her voice.

"Just dandy, but I'll be even better if I'll get my toy back," he whined.

"What?"

"I want Allison's ca…"

"Allison!" _Fuck! I knew using her first name would come to bite me on the ass. _"Allison?" Her voice got shriller and shriller with every repetition. "Allison? So she's Allison now?"

"Of course not. I was just trying to be clear - you know, Allison Cameron, not any another Cameron, but her," he said his eyes fixed on his shoes. They seemed terrible interesting to look at right about now.

"I knew it!" she piped, her voice screeching all the way to his last neuron. He was in for a headache the size of New Jersey and he just took two Ibuprofens not more than ten minutes ago. _Some Vicodin sounds pretty good right now. Why did I have to leave it with Love'em-Marry'em-Cheat'em-Divorce'em boy? That was just stupid._

He knew this was coming, he didn't actually, not this way, but it didn't matter anymore, it was out there and they really needed to straighten things out, and though Allison was never going to be brought up, she was now.

He needed a different plan, one that would get Allison out of this shit and him out of an insane relationship, preferably with his rack intact, though the gleam in Cuddy's eyes was testament of the hell he would have to pay, before things got sorted again.

"What? You're not denying it? Not cracking up some sick joke to distract me? Ha… Never thought I'll see the day the Great Greg House would be speechless."

"I'm not speechless," he smirked, burring all his emotions so deep he wasn't really sure how to get them out once it was all over. "…just waiting for you to finish rambling."

"I know you…"

"…And I know you, but it's relevant how?"

"Don't try to distract me," She shot out of her chair pointing a finger at him. "… you pathetic son of a bitch! You ditch me for her, didn't you? Because she was back in town and she needed you? What, you though little-miss-perfect would still be in love with you - you destroyed her marriage, for crying out loud - that she'll let you take her on another date - yeah, like the first one was so wonderful that she needed that experience again - that she'll give you a five-thousand eight-hundred ninety-sixth chance - you had them all and you blew them, and you know why?"

House opened his mouth to answer an acidic retort on his lips, but she cut him off.

"…Because you are too fucked-up for her… Well, actually you were, not anymore, right? She's outdone you… What can be more disturbed and damaged than a vegetable? Because guess what, sweetheart, that's what she'll be…"

"Cuddy…" His tone was warning but she might as well hear nothing at all from the way she was acting. She was now right in front of him, only a few inches away and in a three-sixty from the night he fucked her last, he didn't found it a turn on in the least.

"Fine… go play with your broken toy. You can now officially screw her up any way you like to because you can't possible do more harm, but House…" She paused looking him straight in the eye. "When - not if, but when - you'll come running back don't expect me to…"

"I don't expect anything from you anymore," he said and before Cuddy could even think of another word to say he was out of her office and very soon out of the hospital.

He needed some time, because the alternative would be getting Cuddy as Allison's bed neighbor in ICU.

* * *

><p>House entered the Diagnosis Department's Conference Room a few hours later, with copies of Allison's file tucked under his right arm and a Coca Cola flavored lollipop in his left hand. The whole team as well as Wilson were waiting for him, and had been waiting for him for a couple of hours now.<p>

"Okay boys and girls… daddy's got us a new toy," House said tossing the stack of files on the table and making his way towards the whiteboard. "Well actually not quite shiny-new, she's thirty-three years old and has been ours before the bad-old-lady downstairs took her from us. But, don't cry, don't despair… I've got her back!"

"So, we're back on Cameron's case?" asked Taub cautiously.

"Yep!"

"And Cuddy knows…" Foreman started and might have said more but for the murderous look House sent his way.

"She knows…" House confirmed in a tone that said clear as day to leave it at that and never mention it again. "Now… new tasks - Thirteen you're our new Dean of Medicine liaison. Do whatever you need - I don't want to hear anything about it, except that it's done."

Thirteen nodded and took one of the files and started reading it.

"Little-man-who-cheats-on-wife - and I'm not talking about you, Wilson - you're on lab duty - again the same drill don't care how, where, when - Just get it done."

Taub made a wry face at House, but nodded nevertheless.

"Yo niggra, you're top dog on this case - she's your patient. Once she's awake do every possible test. I want to know the exact extent of the neurological damage she's got. Only want to hear the results, ok? Ah… and don't wanna see your face around here if you don't have some test results to share with the class or if I don't call you for a differentials."

"Whatever you say, chief," said Foreman making to get out of his chair. "I have nothing to share right now…"

"Then fly my sweet, fly!"

"See you, guys."

"Yeah, yeah… whatever… Love'em-Marry'em-Cheat'em-Divorce'em…" They all turned to look at him with a confused look. "Didn't I tell you? That's Wilson's new nickname. Impressive, eh - just thought about it? Anyway… you' busy or did the cancer kids give you a break for now?"

"I have time… What do you have in mind?"

"Ha… super…" said House trying for a maniacal laugh. "Your ass is mine for the next couple of… I don't know… weeks or so. You're in?"

"I'm surprised you asked. Usually I just get dumped something on no matter how busy I am."

"Don't worry… It's just for show. I have to teach the kids manners. I don't really care how many dying kids you have - you're still mine."

"Sure…" Wilson wanted to say some more, but House continued before he got the chance.

"Aussie…"

"I can't believe it… You finally realized I'm not British?"

"Nope, just wanna annoy you, mate… I just know how much you Brits hate those Downunders." Chase threw his hands up in despair. "Anyway… You, Thirteen and Wilson are my new team. You're in charge of treatments, patient care and whatever."

All three nodded.

"Now… first order of business of the circle of trust: get the detailed history."

"We already have her history," pointed out Taub brandishing the file for everybody to see.

"Get a better one. Aussie, got talk to you ex-in-laws and find out everything from the time mommy and daddy did the dirty stuff to conceive her, up to one minute before she got herself admitted here." Chase stared at him for a second. "I mean now, wombat!"

House watched how Chase got up and taking his bag and jacket left the Conference Room without another word.

"Thirteen go down to Cleavage-Queen and get the names of every staff member that got as far as to look at Cameron through the glass walls and then track them down and find out everything she did, they did, the works - with the promise of sex if you need to. Just don't forget to let me know when and where the sex will take place, or to tape it if I can't get there in time."

Thirteen gave him one of her sexiest smiles and left.

"You two are on Cameron duty… When's the last time you went home?"

"Six hours ago," answered Taub.

"Last night," said Wilson.

"Riiight…" House drawled. "Taub, take the first shift, from the look of his clothes Wilson's been here since Sunday."

"What are you going to do?" asked Wilson as Taub left them alone in the Conference Room and headed towards Allison's room.

"I'm gonna be easy and let you take me home. Just don't take advantage of my innocence. Anyway… I don't think I'm up to driving the bike right now. Which reminds me!" He took a folded piece of paper out his jacket pocket and handed it to Wilson.

"What's this?"

"Ticket… I don't really care who pays for it as long as it isn't me - so pay it yourself, give it to the bitch downstairs or to your next door neighbor… don't care."

"So how did it go with Cuddy?" asked Wilson as he placed the ticket in his pocket.

"Exactly how I expected it to."

"Care to share?"

House started towards the door, but stopped and turned when he heard Wilson's question. He would tell him, in his time and way, just not yet.

"Later… Right now, all I care for is a shower, something to eat and a warm bed."

"And Allison Cameron?" Wilson's eyebrows were hidden somewhere past his hair line and a huge smile played across his lips.

"And Allison Cameron…" acknowledged House with a small smile of his own.


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: _I don't own House M.D or any of the characters from it. I'm not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

**Announcement**: _I'm looking for a House M.D. beta for 'Venus Syndrome', preferably someone who enjoys the story as much as I do and who's ready to spend some time beta-ing it._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

_Allison woke up, like she used to do every morning, to the smell of fresh coffee and blueberry pancakes. It was what she called 'her familiar smell', the one that screamed 'home', 'happiness' and 'safety'. It was nice to have it again after such a long time._

_She had missed it a lot and had tried to reproduce it back at her place, or rather their place, a number of times, but it was never the same. It was disappointing to say the least, but then again a lot of things were disappointing in her life at the moment._

_But right now all that was irrelevant, because she was home, happy and safe with no disappointment in sight._

_She sighed happily hearing the sounds of early morning at the Fosters and got out of bed. It was still early for any normal person's standards, but after two years of waking up when others had just gone to bed it was obscenely late for Allison._

_Her morning routine dealt with in record time - again by a normal person's standards not her own - she was dressed and ready to face the day in no time at all._

_The familiar "'Morning, sleepyhead!" as she entered the kitchen made her smile. God, how she'd missed that! The sound of her father's voice, the first one to greet her in the morning - she was home, truly home and happier than she'd been in months._

_She flashed him her brightest smile, kissed the top of his balding head and settled down next to him at the table._

_"'Morning, dad…mum!"_

_"Good morning, sweetheart! Sleep well?" inquired her mother as set a plate full of puffy blue pancakes in front of her, before reaching down and giving her a lingering peck on the cheek. Allison smiled again. Here it was, yet another thing she had missed and didn't even know it._

_"Yeah… missed my old bed too much not to," Allison chuckled, before taking her first bite. It was blueberry heaven and nothing like the ones that she made. They were rich in flavor, aroma and sweetness and a caloric atomic bomb to boot, but as she took yet another bite she couldn't care less. Mark always said she was too skinny any way. "We did do some reminiscence for a while though."_

_"Who did?" her mother asked, not paying that much attention to the question or the answer she was bound to receive. She was much too used to Allison's morning rambles to do that anymore._

_"Why…me and the bed of course." Allison chuckled around a mouthful of pancake. "We're old palls, you know? Going way…way back."_

_"And…?" her father asked, barely containing his laughter, though he did smirk._

_"And what?"_

_"What did he say?"_

_"Lots of stuff, but it's private. So…" Allison put down the fork and pressed her forefinger to her pouting lips. "…hush!"_

_And at that exact moment the whole Foster household broke into laughter. It was a few minutes before they calmed down enough to have a serious conversation as opposed to the one they just had._

_"You never change, do you?" asked Mrs Foster as she piled a couple of more pancakes on Allison's plate before bringing their three mugs of coffee to the table._

_"Why should I? The guys at school think I'm hilarious…"_

_"Guys, eh?" interrupted her father, his eyebrow arching up and a smirk playing on his lips._

_"And gals," Allison grinned. "… and Mark," she paused and her smile faded just as a small sigh escaped her lips. "…he likes it. It makes him laugh."_

_She sighed again. It was a sad, tired sigh, a sigh that tore at souls and hearts, but none more than her own. She didn't really knew when the happiness in her eyes was replace by hot, wet tears, but when she did feel them sliding down her cheeks, leaving behind scorched trails of sorrow, it was already too late to stop them, so she just let them fall._

_"He never laughs anymore," Allison paused as her mother's arms came around her waist, hugging the tears, pain and sorrow out of her. "…and he should… And I don't know if it helps or if I help or…"_

_A sob made her pause for breath and taking advantage of the opening her mother tried to reassure her. "Honey, you do… and it does!"_

_"It's just…" she couldn't finish; not because it was too hard to do it, but because she had no idea how to explain it. They already knew most of it - they stayed with Mark and her for weeks after he was first diagnosed - but it wasn't the same. Her parents loved her and they loved Mark, but none of them loved him like she did, none of them were destined to loose what she will and that scared and hurt her beyond what could be explained by simple words._

* * *

><p>"We have a case," announced Taub as he and Thirteen entered the Conference Room where House was doing a crossrow puzzles for one of Chase's Medical Journals. He had his feet perched on the table, the journal above his head and his head propped on the back rest of the chair. Not the most comfortable position, but then again one of the best when it came to clear mind thinking and right now - actually for the last eight days - House desperately needed to think.<p>

He never even looked towards his fellows, his eyes fixed on the puzzle when he answered. "Let's see… Is it female… 33… hot, and I don't mean she's got a fever hot - Won't you agree, Thirteen? -," he said with a smirk and a wiggle of eyebrows. "…she was you a few years ago and has various symptoms that don't add up? Maybe she's upstairs in Neurology?"

He paused for a second, but as neither said anything he continued. "Now who could that be? … Her name was something like Comeron?… Caremon?"

"Cameron," sighed Thirteen as she made her way to the coffee machine and poured herself a cup.

"Right… that's it! See, I know this stuff! You don't have to keep reminding me every day," he whined. "I mean… it's right there on the whiteboard."

"He meant a new case…" Thirteen started to say, but stopped - the cup about an inch from her lips, noticed House with a smirk - when he threw the Journal in the general direction of the table, but missed making it skid off the table.

"We already have a case," House said in a voice so low that Taub and Thirteen had trouble hearing it. "You know the rules: one case at a time." He got out of the uncomfortable chair and started walking towards his office.

Taub dropped the file of the new patient on the table with a loud thud which had the designed effect: House turned to look at him for the first time since he entered the Conference Room. "Cuddy said…"

"Well, what do you know? Cuddy said… Guess what munchkins; I don't really give a rat's ass about what Cuddy says. My department - my rules." House took a large breath and let it out - his usual fast thinking pause. "Thirteen, go talk to out despotic leader and remind her we never take on more than one case at a time - and right now out hands are kind of full."

"You think I didn't already told her all this?" Thirteen piped her hands flying to her hips in an almost perfect imitation of Allison's poses from way back when she was well and his fellow.

_God, I miss that!_

House let out an inaudible sigh at the thought of her. Not that he didn't always think of her, because he did, 24/7 since the minute he first held her file, but sometimes - like now - something would remind him of things she used to do and most likely never do again.

He didn't want to think of this kind of stuff - 'couldn't' was a better word actually - and he kept burying them over and over again and yet they always resurfaced.

"Is that rhetorical?" He tried, but the sarcasm wasn't there anymore, still it got the point across. Thirteen and Taub took one last look in his direction and headed out leaving him alone once more.

Just like he like it - he was now able to think undisturbed again.

It had been too long. Three whole days and they still had nothing. She wasn't waking up, they weren't diagnosing her and he wasn't fixing her.

He sighed again. This wasn't working and Cuddy was breathing down his neck. He needed to do something… to fix her somehow; he just had no idea whatsoever how to do that.

* * *

><p><em>She had done it and she was now Mrs Allison Cameron.<em>

_It still seemed like a dream and it only took place a few minutes before. She was happy - delirious happy and it showed._

_"You're beautiful, you know," whispered Mark as together they made their way, for the first time as husband and wife, through the rows of guests, family and friends._

_He was smiling and her heart burst of love and excitement at the site of that smile. It wasn't big or an all tooth kind of smile, but small, fragile and timid. And she loved it every second of it, because it wouldn't last; it never did. It didn't last when she made him laugh lest than a day ago and it wouldn't last now._

_It didn't…_

_Allison was still wearing her wedding dress as she paced the length of the hospital hall, waiting for anyone to bring news._

_Mark was sick again - it had started only a few minutes after that smile - and she didn't feel happy or excited anymore just helpless, helpless and bitter. It was her wedding day, her special day, the best day of her life and she was spending it where she'd spent the last year and a half, pacing in front of a door, waiting for word on how her fiancé - scratch that, her husband of only a couple of hours - was doing._

_She hated it and for this feeling alone she hated herself._

* * *

><p>"HOUSE!"<p>

Cuddy's voice reached him well before the door to his office banged open and a furious Dean of Medicine entered, her eyes searching frantically around the room.

"It's Wilson actually," he smirked in something very similar to what House's smirk would have looked. "House's office is two doors down the hall."

"Where is he?"

"I have no idea. Did you try **his** office," he said with an emphasis on the word 'his'. "That's where I usually find him."

"You know what…"

"What?"

"…you're starting to sound just like him."

"Ah… now I get where the mix-up came from. Still, he's House and I'm Wilson… and I'm busy."

Cuddy turned, her hand still resting on the doorknob, before changing her mind, turning back to face him and closing the door with a loud thud. She made her way to his desk, took a seat and looked him straight in the eye.

"You knew, didn't you?"

"Knew what?"

"Why he left me… why he's living on your couch… why…"

"Actually he hasn't been on my couch for days now," he said, his smirk turning into a small sad smile. No matter how pissed off at her he was at the moment - and he really was pissed for what she had said to House - Cuddy was still his friend and she was definitely not fine with everything that was happening with her and House. "He's been here most of the time."

"Doing what… holding her hand? She's in a coma for crying out loud - pretty interesting in a medical sense and quite tragically, but totally boring for House's brilliant yet twisted mind. So why the hell does he sticks around for?"

"He never solved the case," said Wilson shrugging one's shoulders. "You know how he is; he needs to solve his puzzles."

"He has a thing for her, doesn't he?"

Wilson said nothing - he would never admit to anything like that to anyone, especially to Cuddy - but apparently it was good enough an answer for her.

"It doesn't make any sense," she tried. "He doesn't even like her."

She looked tired and hurt as she said this and Wilson felt a pang a guilt for her. So he did the only thing he could do: he lied.

"I don't know."

"You always know," Cuddy replied; tiredness turning into irritation.

"I don't know," Wilson repeated and dropped his eyes back to the chart he was studying when she came.

"You do, God Dammit, you always know…"

"Cuddy…"

"You're his friend; you have to know."

"You should forget about it - that's the only thing that I do know - just forget about it, because you're only going to get hurt…"

"The hell I will," yelled Cuddy and was out of the chair and half way towards the door in a blink of an eye. Turning to face him again she continued. "He'll come to his senses," she paused letting a slightly crazy looking grin take over from sadness. "…and then I'll stop hurting and he'll…"

"Lisa…" tried Wilson, now only sadness and compassion showing on his face, but she cut him off as if he never had spoken at all.

"It's been a week already; he's bound to stop sometime and when he will… when he'll realize that she isn't that person anymore he'll come back. He doesn't have a crush on her; she's just a sick puppy in need of a vet… or something. He'll get over it."

"Lisa…" he said again, but it was already too late. She was out the door before he even finished saying her name.

There was nothing more he could have done - _God, how I wished there was!_ - and not only for Cuddy, but for House and Cameron too. There had to be something, anything…

* * *

><p><em>Allison was riding the elevator up to level seven where in a matter of minutes she was going to sit her internship interview with Dr Chan, Teaching Committee Chairman at the Mayo Clinic. She was excited, anxious and scared shitless, and she wanted to do the internship here more than anything else in the world right now - only Mark's remission came higher on her wants - so much so that she could barely think, dream or talk about anything else for weeks since she found out about the opening.<em>

_"It's a sure thing, Hun… You'll get it, don't worry!" that was what Mark told her that morning before she left and she believed him. He somehow always knows this stuff and she wouldn't bet against him in a million years._

_That's why she knows things had been better for him, because he told her and she believes him. Everything will be better - he will be better and she will get this job._

_The elevator halts and she is off to dazzle Dr Chan for one of his internship position._

* * *

><p>"We have a case," Taub said a little apprehensive as he, Foreman and Chase entered House's office. He was draped across his couch, swirling his cane around, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling.<p>

"You' asking or telling?" House questioned without looking at the three men or acknowledging them in any other way. For all that it looked like he might as well be talking to himself or the ceiling.

"Tellin', I guess," said Taub really uncertain of his answer which made both Chase and Foreman smirk. He didn't need it to see it to know it was there, it was obvious in their voices.

"Grow a backbone, will you?" piped Foreman.

"Yeah mate, you're pathetic when you're scared," offered Chase.

"Well then… you're either telling me we have a case - something I already know about - just for the fun of it, which I highly doubt - you love yourself too badly to be that much of an idiot with something that could bring on a cane up one of your orifices - either Lord Voldemort down stairs wants us to take a new case though I specifically told you not to bring me any new cases before I say so. So which is it… your stupidity or hers?"

"Lord who?"

House opened his eyes in mock shock and stared at Taub like he had never seen him before. "You muggle, you…"

"House she's upped the stakes… just take a look at the damn file and if you don't like it fine," offered Foreman.

"And if I hate it?"

"Do whatever the hell you want. Who's gonna stop you anyway?"

House signaled for Chase to throw his the file which he did and without looking for more than a second at it - basically its cover and the first page - he threw it onto his desk. All three men's eyes widened in surprise until they noticed House's smirk.

"You're not taking it," asked Chase, though it wasn't so much a question as it was a statement of a well-known fact. They all knew it. They knew even before coming to see him and still they came. Once upon a time that showed a quality he would have admired: stubbornness; right now it showed him exactly how irritating they could be when setting their mind to it.

"I hate it… Now back to our case… the one some of us have been working on, while you three played at being Cuddy's errant boys."

"What's with this case that has you so…" started Taub. "I mean, I don't get it. She was one of yours - so what - she had a crush on you - why do you give a damn now, when you wouldn't give a damn then…"

"And I thought only women dish," House smirked his eyes fixed on Foreman and Chase on the other side of the room. "…tut - tut, boys!"

"… and she's hot - again so what? The same can be said by one third of all the women that come through this place on a daily basis. So what's it about her?"

"Nothing…" House got off the couch and was almost at the door before turning and giving them a stern look. "Funny, I thought you two idiots," again his eyes rested on Foreman and Chase. "…were her friends - well technically friend and ex-husband, but who's keeping track - apparently I was wrong."

His eyes turned back to Taub. "Go test her for Sarcoidosis, Waldenstrom's Macroglobulinemia, Cushing and Lupus."

They left without another word though Foreman at least seemed to have something to say, but he didn't. He left with the rest of them and even if normally he would be pissed at him for not standing his ground when he knew he was wrong, right now it was fine by him.

It was actually perfect. He didn't need questions but answers and personally he had neither of them.

"You do realize that some of those have nothing to do with her symptoms?" asked Wilson as he opened the balcony door letting himself and the night's cool breeze in.

"Yeah…"

"And you know they're questioning you're judgment as we speak?"

"Yeah…"

"You're getting desperate aren't you?"

House didn't answer; he just took one last look at Wilson and left. It was time to hide from reality again and think.

_Why the hell couldn't he think anymore?_

* * *

><p><em>Allison was walking down the street only a couple of blocks away from her and Mark's apartment, smiling that sweet little smile that came so hard during the last months, and still somehow got plastered on her lips over two hours ago. She was happy; in all the madness surrounding her and despite everything she was happy and she liked it.<em>

_It was a strange having this feeling, one she hasn't felt in so long it seemed foreign and unnatural. She shouldn't be happy with Mark getting worst and his oncologist telling them every time to prepare, that it was going to be soon now. And prepare they did and it was tough and frightening, and yet somehow together they managed it. And still right this instant she was happy._

_The last couple of weeks things seemed to be better. So she hoped that maybe Dr Grassmore was wrong, that maybe there was still a chance for more time or remission, or something that would make hope seem justified. She knew it was all in vain, she knew cancer, but as they thrived on hope, why not indulge herself this small fantasy of things going well._

_It was a fantasy, an unreal and impossible scenario, but she dreamed of it nevertheless. How could she not? She had always wanted a family - not right now of course, but in time… someday, when her career was established and things got less hectic - and maybe, just maybe, she'll have that with Mark one day; a house out of town, two and a half children, a happy life… growing old next to each other._

_Impossible, she knew that, yet she wanted it._

_Still right now she was happy. Despite a future that would never be and a life she would never have she was happy. She'd gotten the internship and she couldn't wait to get home to Mark and tell him all about it._

_He was going to be so proud of her… so happy for her, for them, for…_

_Her thoughts slipped away from her when she noticed the ambulance and the EMTs in front of their building. _

_And just like that she wasn't happy anymore. _

_It was the day; she knew it, just like Mark had known she would get the internship; and for the first time she realized she wasn't truly prepared… she wasn't ready, not even close to it. She wanted more time, more time to love him, to make him simile and care for him, more time to be with him._

_She wasn't ready and she was falling… darkness all around her, while within there was only numbness. She didn't know what to do, so she did the only thing that made sense in the madness around her…_

_… _she opened her eyes, but saw nothing and closed them again. The darkness of her mind was better than the darkness around.

There was silence in the darkness at first, with only the swishing sound of her own blood pulsing away in her ears - it seemed unearthly and strange. She was used to the bluster of hospitals and clinics, med schools and even her own loud household, and this was nothing like that. It was strange.

It didn't last though, maybe just for a second or two. Then there was swishing and beeping and pulsing and screeching and voices… So many voices… and she didn't recognize any of them. They seemed muffled too, like she was listening from behind a closed door or from underneath at least a tone water.

Still it was loud… so loud she wanted to cover her ears and painful ear drums and muffle the sounds completely.

_Silence!…_

_Silence!…_

_Please… just shut up!_

It hurt so much - it was simply too much, too many sounds, too loud.


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: _I don't own House M.D or any of the characters from it. I'm not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

**Announcement**: _I'm looking for a House M.D. beta for 'Venus Syndrome', preferably someone who enjoys the story as much as I do and who's ready to spend some time beta-ing it._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

Allison opened her eyes again - somewhere in the middle of madness she had fallen asleep again - but seeing as there still wasn't anything to see she just closed them once more. It was easier that way; she could deal with her world - reality not so much yet.

It was quiet this time… quieter to be more exact. There were still sounds - all of the ones from before and some new, fancy ones - but it was okay. She was prepared for them now - she just ignored them and before she knew it they were all background sounds.

That was better… simple and better, but she had other problems this time around.

She had no limps, which was such a ridiculous idea she wanted to laugh. She was a doctor for crying out loud… She should know these things; stuff like the barrier between possible and probable; and the idea of having no limps was neither possible nor probable. It was preposterous. They were there, just too numb to have any feeling for the moment at least.

So she did the only sensible thing, she waited.

It was a while before she first felt the numbness recede. It started with her left hand pinky and she smiled -_there you go!_ - only to regret it a second later. She was in pain, so much pain her whole body was screaming and still she was silent. No sound escaped her numb lips.

_I want to scream God Dammit, to scream my lungs out and then some!_

_Let me scream!_

But she didn't… she couldn't… it just wasn't there anymore. _I'm just numb, right?_ It had to be, because the alternative wasn't improbable or impossible, it was…

No, she wouldn't think of that. She was numb. Her body was numb, her voice had gone numb and for all the rational thoughts she had in the last - minutes? hours? days?; she didn't know which - her brain had gone numb too…

…and she was okay with it, because numbness she could handle. Numbness was temporary anything else going through her mind wasn't.

* * *

><p>Little by little Allison's body came to life, part after aching body-part she was waking up and letting go of the numbness only to replace it with excruciating pain. It was a nightmare… a nightmare she wanted to wake up from, but she couldn't… she was already awake.<p>

Eventually and unbearably slow the pain faded leaving behind only the pins and needles of a now awake. There was still pain - lingering, bearable pain - but she could handle that.

It must have been hours, maybe even days - she drifted off a few more times - before the process was finally over and everything seemed to be working once more. She even found her voice somewhere along the way, but after so long she didn't feel the need to use it just yet.

It was enough to just know it was there.

* * *

><p>A while later, after drifting in and out of consciousness for God knows how long, Allison opened her eyes again and this time she didn't found darkness beyond, but light.<p>

She tried finding out where she was - she suspected being in a hospital - but it was useless. There was nothing there to do more than confirm her suspicions. There were machines and tubes all around her and the light was coming from what seemed like a glass wall to her right.

She wondered briefly if Mark's room looked the same and if it was close enough for her to pay him a visit. She didn't think so - maybe a couple of floors apart. She sure wasn't in the Oncology Ward - she didn't have cancer - and Mark couldn't be anywhere else - so not really that close.

And that was okay; she could live with that… for now.

_Maybe I'll ask one of the nurses to take me to him. He must be lonely out there!_

She just hoped it didn't take too long for somebody to come in - she needed to find out what was happening and be there for him. He needed her.

She sighed, thinking of him always made her sigh, and with the sigh came drowsiness. She'll be asleep again soon. Maybe she'll see him after a nap. She needed it. She was tired. Not once did she wonder how much time had passed since the ambulance and the EMTs.

She would wonder later… much… much later…

Allison was asleep in a matter of seconds dreaming of piercing blue eyes and feelings she couldn't understand for people without a face. It was a nice dream; she smiled in her dream, yet by the time she was awake again she didn't remember a thing.

* * *

><p>Thirteen stuck her head through the Dean of Medicine's office door, her eyes searching for Cuddy, whom she found at her desk bend over a stack of papers.<p>

"You wanted to see me?"

"Dr. Hadley, yes…" said Cuddy lifting her gaze towards the door, a bright smile on her face. "Come in - Sit…"

Thirteen did as told and was soon standing two feet away for Cuddy regarding her with apprehension. There was something in that smile she kept flashing her she didn't like. She just hoped that the Dean of Medicine had learnt her lesson by now, because if she was here only for Cuddy to try and trick her into taking another case, House will certainly kill her.

Which 'her', Thirteen didn't know for sure - could be either or both - but she was determined that if there really was a new case involved, not to tell House this time. She might be having a crappy life because of the Huntingtons, but she sure as hell wasn't suicidal.

"Would you like some coffee? … Marion makes the best coffee you'd ever had."

"Huh… No, thanks! I had my fill already."

"Something else then? We still have some time to spare before the others get here."

_Okay_, so it wasn't a new case and 'the others' definitely meant the rest of the team. Were they in trouble?_None that I know of, then again we are House's team -_ she wasn't worried though. Why should she? She would find out in a minute, anyway.

There were a couple of minutes of silence during which Cuddy went on with filling out some forms while Thirteen pretended to ignore her and stared out the window - neither tried for small talk. As expected soon enough there was a knock on the door and the rest of House's team came in, taking seats and looking at Cuddy with as much apprehension as Thirteen felt.

Something was definitely going on and whatever it was she was willing to bet it had something to do with House, probably Cameron too. She was sure she wouldn't like it.

Cuddy offered some more coffee - they all refused and continued to stay in silence waiting for 'the last one', as she put it. They didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later the door opened again and Dr Wilson entered with a wide smirk on his face.

The frown on Cuddy's forehead told them that Wilson's smirk was putting a damper on her plan. As his smirk got bigger her frown got wider.

"So…" Cuddy started all polite businesslike, looking at everyone except Wilson. "I guess I'll cut down to the chase. I have new assignments for you guys." There were a few splutters of 'What?', 'I beg your pardon?' and 'House is gonna kill us!' accompanied by a lot of growls, but Cuddy ignored them completely deciding to go on with what she had to say.

"I understand your need to keep working on this case until now - especially on your part," her eyes shifted to Eric's than Chase's face where it lingered a few seconds which seemed a lot like some sort of silent condolences. Thirteen didn't really like it and by the expressions the rest of her colleagues had on, they didn't either. "Chase… Foreman…"

"…but," continued Cuddy after a second or so of silence. "…it's been almost three weeks and as much as Dr Cameron needs you, this hospital needs you more. Actually the hospital needs you now, as opposed to your patient, who will probably need you further down the road… when she wakes up; and I do pray that's going to happen soon." The silent 'if she ever wakes up' was so clear she really didn't need to voice it out loud; her tone of voice said it all.

_I would've paid good money for House to be here too!_

"Anyway…" Cuddy went on ignoring the glares Chase and Eric were sending her way, but was cut off when Wilson, with his smile back in place, cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.

"Then it's you we should thank," Wilson's words made Cuddy's business like mask crumpled.

"Thank?"

"…because Allison woke up twenty minutes ago." Continued Wilson as if Cuddy's interruption never took place.

"What?"

The loudest voice was definitely Cuddy's but they all said it, all except Wilson with that damn smile of his.

There were a few seconds of silence, before Wilson confirmed it. "She woke up about twenty minutes ago."

"How is she?" asked Chase as the shock of the news started to fade.

"Completely disoriented but that's to be expected. She stayed awake for six or seven minutes before exhaustion overtook. She's resting now…"

He might've said more, he probably did to Cuddy, but Thirteen couldn't have known because as soon as the news sunk in completely the guys and herself were on their feet and out the door rushing to Cameron's room.

* * *

><p>The next time she woke up, Allison found herself staring in the most piercing back eyes she had ever seen. They seemed friendly and agile, intelligent and rough, and somehow more dangerous that she remembered any eyes looking - that made her confused. On one hand it gave her a sense of safety that she only felt when looking in her big brother's deep brown eyes and on the other hand it made her think 'caution'.<p>

She blinked, willing the eyes to just go away - if not forever, at least until she could straighten the emotions they awoke in her - but she had no such luck. The eyes as well as their owner stayed put, smiling timidly at her.

That smile made her frown. It was a smile she knew and knew well, not the person that smiled or the particularities of the smile itself, but what it stood for. She had used it herself from time to time, but she'd never liked it. It was the 'I'm too scared to even think about what's going on with you' smile and right now, seeing it directed at her all she could think about was just how much she wanted it whipped of the guy's face.

She closed her eyes.

_Maybe I'll fall right back to sleep… or he'll leave me alone! _No such luck.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" said a gruff male voice, probably the one that came with those eyes and that awful smile. Without even a moment hesitation she obeyed the gentle yet firm request. Her eyes snapped opened and she stared again into those dangerous eyes which were now a lot friendlier than just a second ago. He also had a new smile, a warm and welcoming smile that made her forget all about the one from before.

"Do you understand me?" asked the man - the doctor actually - she had caught a glimpse of his tag which read Dr Fore… something.

He was watching her closely, with something like half-heartedness shining through his huge black eyes. She blinked once, twice, three times before considering answering the question.

"Yes…" said a hoarse voice which only vaguely sounded like hers.

_What the… How long have I been asleep for?_

"Okay… Perfect actually," he let out a puff of air, a gesture that showed his relief - she could almost see the tension draining out of him. His entire face seemed to get brighter - and that really was an achievement for someone with his pitch black skin tone. "Do you know who you are?"

"Allison Cam - Camm - Cameron…" she let out a puff of her own, but of exasperation not of relief.

_How can it be so hard to tell somebody your own name? _She didn't have an answer to that one so she turned her attention back to the man in front of her. He seemed to have some more questions for her to answer to.

* * *

><p>"Can you move?"<p>

"Yes…" Allison croaked already wriggling her toes and fingers, bending her knees and elbows as far as her position, IV's, pain and stiffness permitted, backing her words with visible proof that nothing was wrong with her.

Though that raised the question as to why she was here. There were some problems that she could see - pain, stiffness, tiredness, some minor issues with concentration - but were they enough to get her in here?

"Perfect…" the doctor said with a smile.

"What's… why am I here?"

"You've been in a coma for the last three weeks," Dr Fore-something started to explain as her mind ticked one by one the symptoms she'd noticed. _That explains the stiffness and tiredness… _"…brought on by - Hey, you sure you wanna hear this now?" Allison nodded and he continued. "You had a sudden cardiac arrest and your brain was deprived of oxygen for eight and a half minutes."

"That's cerebral hypoxia, right?" she suddenly asked remembering some lecture a while ago on Cerebral Dysfunctions.

"You asking or telling?" Dr Fore-something frowned and regarded her with such an intense stare, that for a second she felt the need to look away. It was like he was trying to see through her. _What the hell!_

"Tellin' I guess…" she offered. "Where's my husband?"

"Your husband?" Somehow his frown seemed to have covered his entire face. "You're married?"

"To Mark Cameron… yes! Is he okay? I think something happened to him…"

"Do you know where you are?" he asked suddenly cutting her off.

"Hospital… what does that have to do with anything?"

"Which hospital?"

"I… I don't know! What does it matter?" Allison took one long deep breath trying to calm herself, though at the rate the heart monitor was going next to her, she wasn't managing it. "Where's my husband?"

"I don't…"

"Then find the hell out. I need to see my husband… I…" she was one step away from shouting now but she didn't - couldn't care anymore. She just wanted Mark.

"Cameron…"

"I want my HUSBAND!

* * *

><p>Gregory House entered his office, after prowling the hospital for most of the last hour trying to no avail to pounder the implications of Allison's awakening. He found his team spread around his office occupying every chair and flat surface there, waiting for him to arrive. They had news and he was both dying and dreading to hear them. He slouched on his recliner chair, feet perched on top of the desk and eyes closed, letting his head fall to the back of the chair.<p>

"So?" he asked no one in particular, though he knew that until now, Foreman was her only visitor. Since Thirteen rushed to his office announcing Allison woke up, there had been only one thing on his mind: the level of damage. It could be nothing - though the chances of that actually happening were less than zero - or it could be massive - and there would be nothing more to be done. Except for finding out what lead her to it in the first place. "What's your neurological assessment?"

His eyes snapped opened as he posed the question and for the first time since entering the room he carefully watched Foreman. He was tense - which wasn't a good sign - yet less that would have been expected giving the situation - which told him it wasn't as bad as they thought. For a second he wanted to smile, to let out a loud sigh of relief or even a laugh, but he couldn't. He still didn't know how she was and until then he was determined to show nothing.

"She's alert, attentive and cooperative." There was a collective intake of breath at this statement which culminated in loud puffing sounds as one by one, all the members of House's team relaxed. This was good news - fabulous news, yet Foreman was still much too tense for House's liking. Something was off. "She has some trouble with spontaneous speech, it could simply be for staying in a coma for three weeks, otherwise her language levels are normal. She also has no motor problems from what I could tell and her reflexes are working properly."

"So, what's her problem?" House asked getting out of his recliner and making his way through the door that linked his office to the Conference Room and towards the coffee machine. His team followed.

"Why do you always have to be the spoilsports? She's fine… he just…"tried Wilson.

"She's not…" House replied immediately. "He's been clenching ever since I got here and his eyes keep shifting from me to Chase, which tells me that somehow whatever is wrong with her is likely to have an impact on the two of us. Since me and the Aussie have so much in common is hard to tell, but if I'd have to guess I'd say it's either work related or has something to do with both our history with her… and I'm pretty sure it's not work related."

They were nearly at the coffee machine, House was already there, when all of a sudden Taub's voice cut him off. "Aha…" he piped, making all the others turn to him. "I knew it… There was some other reason for keeping and sticking with her case."

"You mean except for the one step in the grave ting?" snarled Thirteen.

"He's doing her… well not now obviously, but before." Taub continued looking pleased of himself.

"So what?" continued Thirteen with something similar to outrage in her voice.

"He's emotionally involved in this case…"

"So is Chase… and you had no problem with it," she countered.

"It's different," Taub shrieked.

"And you're a hypocrite," she offered.

"It's not… work related that is," continued Foreman as if Taub and Thirteen's interruption had never occurred and all that took place was his and House's speeches. "…not completely work related, anyway. She's got Retrograde amnesia - about ten years of it from what I gathered."

"What?" Chase's incredulous cry, mingled with House's snapped "Go on!" prompted Foreman to continue with his explanation. For a minute there House though he was willing to leave it at that. It was a good think he reconsidered, because by the way the rest of the team was looking at him, skinning alive would have been a real possibility; not to mention House's personal spin to the mix - a shiny, black and red stripes cane up his ass.

"The last thing she remembers it coming back home to an ambulance and a team of EMTs. She's been asking for her husband, too… her dead husband. So I guess that's as far back as her memory goes. I don't think she knew her husband was dead."

"And she knows now?" asked Chase.

"She figured it out… I gave her 20 milligrams of clonazepam to calm her down."

"Poor…" started Thirteen but was cut off by House's "When did dear ol' hubby die?" He poured coffee into his red mug and took his first sip.

"I think about ten years ago. Why?" asked Chase.

"Because, I don't know," said House sipping from his fifth coffee of the day. "…it might have something to do with treating the patient. I asked for a 'detailed history' you moron. Those were my words, right? 'Detailed History'? What can I do with 'I think'?"

"I did get it…" started Chase, but was cut off by Thirteen's reply. "Eleven years, ten months and sixteen days ago."

"What else happened around that time?" House asked, still glaring at Chase and giving Thirteen no other acknowledgement than continuing her train of thought. For a couple of seconds nobody answered, they were all too busy trying to remember facts that until now had no medical relevance and as such they had no need to remember, before Wilson - the only one who kept carrying her file everywhere since coming on the team - opened it and read.

"She graduated St. James Medical College and started Perelman School of Medicine at the University of Pennsylvania in 1999, her husband died on September 22nd 2000 and she started her internship at the May Clinic in October 15th the same year."

"Less than a month after… That's interesting!" commented House mostly to himself and though everybody seemed to have heard him, nobody gave him any attention.

"She starting her residency in Immunology at Hahnemann University Hospital under Dr Chan in December 2003, and what do you know… another three years later she came work for you," said Taub scanning the file on Wilson's lap. "Nothing else mentioned… Not even when she finished her residency or where she worked since she left here."

"September 22st 2006…" said House just as Chase answered the other unanswered question. "She hasn't work since she left here." Though Chase information was more relevant all eyes turned to look at House. "What? It's the day I hired her."

"And six years to the day since her husband died? I'd say that's interesting," commented Wilson with a knowing smile on his face.

And it really was… but right now there were more pressing matters to consider.

"Where are her parents?" he suddenly asked.


End file.
